


The Doctor and his Chief Engineer

by Whatevergirl



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Culmets - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-03 13:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15819762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevergirl/pseuds/Whatevergirl
Summary: Just bits and pieces from the life of Dr Culber and Lieutenant Stamets on the Discovery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that grew from when I spotted Stamets is the Chief Engineer (during 1x05).
> 
> I might write more bits and pieces, catching up to the first season, haven't decided yet; especially as I have a half-finished soul-bond mirror 'verse story I want to sort out too...

“Paul?” Hugh hesitated as he stepped into their quarters, surprised to see the lights were down already. It was true that his husband had left before the doctor had even woken that morning, but they always waited until the other was back before going to bed, unless one of them had a night shift. “You ok?”

The lump on the bed grunted quietly. “Mmm.” He heard a sigh and the bed shifted, easier to spot as Hugh’s eyes adapted to the low light. “S’rry…” 

Walking over to the bed, he sat down and began to tug off his boots. “Sleeping?” he asked softly as he wriggled his toes, glad to have them free of the footwear they had been trapped in since 0700. 

“Was a long day.” Paul sighed. He sounded tired, but not as though he had actually been asleep. “Spent the day in Jeffries tubes.”

Hugh winced in sympathy as he stood and began to remove his clothing. “Something go wrong?” he hoped it hadn’t been anything too complicated. Paul preferred to be with his Spore Drive, but he was Chief Engineer and did have responsibilities on other parts of the ship. 

“Yeah. A decided issue with wiring. It’s going to take weeks to get everything in top condition again.”

“You’d better remember to eat.” Hugh warned his husband as he pulled his night clothes on and headed off to get a wash and to clean his teeth.

There was a suspicious silence that the doctor let go on for a moment as he held the brush in his mouth, a frown forming on his face. “Paul? You did eat, right honey?”

The silence went on again and Hugh rolled his eyes in irritation. Paul really was awful at lying so he rarely tried it; the lack of an answer told Hugh all he needed to know. When he’d finished preparing for bed and had settled beside Paul, he pulled the man back against him and whispered softly in his ear. “Don’t you dare leave without me in the morning; we’re eating breakfast together.”

\------

“You need more than that.” Hugh pointed out as he watched Paul cling to his coffee the next morning. “Especially if you’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”

“Let me wake up before you start doctoring.” Paul replied, a smile touching his lips. “You don’t start your shift for another five hours anyway.”

“I like eating breakfast with you.” Hugh replied gently, sitting down opposite and pushing the tray to the middle of the table. “But it does involve eating.”

Paul rolled his eyes, the smile was still there as he reached for some fruit. “Thanks.” 

“You going to be out all day today?” the doctor asked as he sipped his own coffee. “You didn’t sound very happy last night.”

The other man scrubbed a hand through his hair as he leaned forwards, groaning lowly. “It’s the tests with the spore drive. We’ve been trying a few different things but something went wrong with this one. It’s blown out a bunch of relays, fried more wires than I care to admit and I want to do a full check of the warp core.”

“The warp core? I thought you said it was just wires?” Unlike Paul who was actually an engineer, even though his speciality was considered a science, Hugh only had a basic understanding of how their ship worked and he’d last looked at that back in the academy; it just wasn’t required for general life as a doctor on a science vessel.

“On the surface, yes. But I want to make sure that the core wasn’t damaged at all. I don’t want us to go to warp and have something go wrong.” 

“I didn’t think the spore drive was connected to the warp core.” Hugh screwed up his face, trying to recall what he knew of their propulsion system. “Aren’t they completely separate?”

“Ideally, they would be. However, the power moves along the same pathways whether it’s coming from the warp core or the spore drive. Going _into_ the core should be one-way, but the spores keep defying our expectations and I want to make sure none of them have gotten anywhere near the dilithium.” Paul gave him a wry smile as he reached for a slice of toast. “Last thing we need is a breech and the sooner I double check everything is working, the sooner I can get back to my spore drive.”

Hugh nodded his head calmly, before something occurred to him and he reached out to touch Paul’s hand, “Don’t forget to get back before 1800 though. Your mom is going to be calling and there’s only so many times she’ll accept that you’re busy.” Paul’s mom called often, nearly every two weeks. She lived close enough to Starfleet HQ to be able to make frequent trips up. 

“I’ll be there.” He groaned unhappily. They’d had an argument last time but her time on the coms had ran out before they’d had a chance to resolve it. “She’ll want to talk about Dad again.”

“Honestly.” Hugh sighed gently, actually grasping Paul’s hand this time. “I’d say just let it go but your Dad is kind of…”

“A dick?” Paul sighed, squeezing Hugh’s hand before leaning back. “He was so pleased when I told them my job is actually Chief Engineer. I probably should have just dropped the whole topic then and left it at that. I just always kind of want to yell at him though.”

Not that Paul or his dad, Thom, ever yelled at each other, they both grumbled and complained, getting steadily more sharp and sarcastic until one of them walked away. But Thom had a single-minded opinion of mushrooms, and honestly believed that everyone would think Paul’s work was to do with recreational drugs; he claimed he knew Paul’s work was important, but it was hard thing to explain to a man with no interest in science but a large concern for his own reputation. Chief Engineer was something Thom could proud of, even though it wasn’t the main focus of Paul’s day; after all, Discovery was supposed to be a science vessel, although it seemed no-one had informed their Captain of that fact. They were a fair way out, and only near the Klingons when Lorca could find a way to get there; Chief Engineer was more to do with implementing the spore drive than crawling through Jeffries tubes, just like how sickbay was small, really only for sorting out problems that arose with experiments rather than taking in many injured soldiers. 

“What’s wrong?” Paul leant against the table to catch Hugh’s gaze. “You look bothered by something… and not a good something.”

Hugh quirked a smile, but it faded quickly. “Just thinking about Lorca.” And he saw Paul nod in understanding. The man had been a topic of conversation between them more than once; or rather, the subject of a rant.

There really as nothing they could do about their captain, who could claim he was following Starfleet’s orders as often as he like, but Hugh wasn’t so sure. It was possible that he had been a good Captain when he’d led the Buran, and the record certainly supported that idea, but Hugh honestly believed he should have been taken off to a quiet Star-Base to receive help. It was all very well putting him in charge of a science vessel that was investigating a new way to travel, but the Discovery happened across a startling amount of trouble as though their captain was hunting out what he could. Lorca didn’t need a quiet post, he needed medical leave until Starfleet was confident that he was in his right mind. 

“I’ve got to get going. I’ll try make it back in time.” Paul murmured, draining the last of his coffee and giving Hugh a tired smile. 

“I’ll com you if you’re late.” 

And with that, Paul was gone. 

Hugh pulled the tray a little closer, reaching for toast as he opened up the interface on his PADD. Paul’s mom was always happy to pass letters on to the rest of Hugh’s family.

\------

‘ _MAIN POWER DOWN_ ’ The computer announced, unnecessarily. 

“No shit.” Grumbled Nurse Nestor quietly as he lit several torches and tossed them over to Hugh and Doctor Holden. 

“Can I go?” Asked Ensign Molina from the bio-bed. 

“No.” Holden replied, a grin in her voice. “We’ve not finished your scans.”

“I can come back for them.” He complained as Hugh watched him run fingers over the tip of his antenna by torchlight; he was here after injuring himself while working on the shuttlepods, which had resulted in sensitivity in his antenna but Molina wasn’t enjoying how long the diagnosis was taking.

“Doors are shut until they get emergency power.” He pointed out as he picked up his PADD and checked how much charge was left on it.

As the Ensign sighed and stretched out on the bed, Hugh tapped out a message to Paul’s PADD, hoping the man had it with him. 

‘ _Hey, Paul. Is the power going to be out long?_ ’

But when the answer came, it wasn’t what he expected. 

‘ _This is Cadet Tilly on Lieutenant Stamets’ PADD. You’ll just need to hang tight a bit. We’re all working on it._ ’

“Tilly?” It took him a long moment to remember who she was. ‘ _Do you know how long it might be until we at least have emergency? Also, where is L. Stamets?_ ’

‘ _Lieutenant Collins thinks 10 minutes till Emergency and at least an hour till full. L. Stamets is unconscious. We’ll bring him to sickbay when emergency is on._ ’

“Shit.” Hugh swore as he read the message, feeling annoyed at the way Cadet Tilly had relayed the information. She probably didn’t know they were married, Paul didn’t like to chat with those in his division but even so, surely she should have realised that it wasn’t a professional message.

“Is there a problem?” Nestor asked softly as he stopped his pacing to wait beside Hugh. 

“Sounds like something went wrong in engineering. Stamets is unconscious and will be brought here when power is back on.” He kept the quiver out of his voice, but he caught Holden’s eye; she was fully aware of their relationship and generally only let him treat minor injuries. Not that Paul had needed any major surgeries yet.

“How long for power?” She asked, picking up her own PADD.

“About ten minutes until emergency and another hour, maybe more for main power.”

“Do I still have to wait?” piped up Molina. 

“We have scans to do and a discussion on appropriate safety equipment. You aren’t going yet.” Hugh replied, trying to keep his voice light as he waited for Paul to arrive. 

“I’m having a nap then.” The andorian replied, audibly shifting on the bio-bed. 

While the emergency power came back on after twenty minutes, it was closer to forty before Paul staggered through the door, looking thoroughly irritated. 

“I’m fine.” He snarled as Ensign Harrington half dragged him inside. “I could have got myself here.”

“Doctor Culber!” She smiled in obvious relief as Hugh hurried over to take Paul’s arm. “Something exploded when he was climbing up through the Jeffries tubes. He was next to it and fell to the bottom of the ladder and it took us a while to get down to him.” She gave a wry smile as she watched Hugh lead her superior officer to a bed. “The ladder’s going to need replacing; it’s ruined. But Lieutenant Stamets was out for about half an hour. He’s got blood on the back of his head.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, picking up the medical tricorder. They wouldn’t be able to use a number of machines in sickbay to full power came back, but they had enough machines that ran on their own charge that he could make a start.

“I’ve got to be heading back, Doctor. We just be all back up soon enough though.”

“What happened?” He asked, before she managed to leave.

“The power from the spore drive doubled back, according to the Lieutenant.” She shrugged, heading back out the door.

“It was too much for our system to handle.” Paul explained as he leaned back and allowed Hugh to scan him. “I think I know what went wrong, and how to fix it.”

“I thought you were just checking things over and checking on the warp core today, not doing anything with spore drive.” He moved down and frowned at his screen. “I’m going to take off your boot. Your ankle is going to need sorting, as well as your knee.”

“It all burnt earlier, but Harrington gave me a hypo for the pain earlier.” Paul crossed his arms over his chest, looking away to a far corner. “And we have certain routines set up both to keep my garden healthy and for a couple of other experiments we have going that link to the spores that we use the reaction cube for.”

“Which one? Which hypo, I mean?” Hugh asked as he carefully unfastened the boot and tried to remove it without hurting Paul more. The trouser leg was a state, and Hugh couldn't tell at a glance which bits were stained cloth and which were damaged flesh.

“Just the regular one with the blue band. It’s just a standard medkit we have tucked away in that section so I’m still in pain, but it’s not awful anymore.” He managed a weak smile as his sock was removed and Hugh went to get his scissors.

“I’m just going to cut these. They’re so burnt that you can’t reuse them anyway.” He moved away and collected Nestor to hold a torch for the extra lighting while they waited for full power. “Bits of fabric have gotten stuck in the burns so I’m going to need to remove it before I can heal anything.”

“Lovely. Do I get another painkiller before you start?” Paul’s tone was snarky, but Hugh knew that his husband was just hiding everything behind it. 

“Here.” Paul sighed and leaned back as Hugh released the hypo and picked up his tweezers. “No sleeping though. I’ll give your head a proper scan when we’ve got main power back.”

“Shame.” Sighed Paul. “A nap sounds good.”

They worked quietly after that, aside from Hugh checking that Paul was still awake and soon enough, Hugh was confident they’d gotten as much out as he could. He took the sonic scrubber and began to clean up what was left; it didn’t work on the large bits of fabric that they had removed with tweezers, and it often had trouble with broken skin, but Hugh wanted the burn as clean as possible before he healed it up.

When the power was fully restored, Nestor headed off to start Molina’s scan and Hugh touched Paul’s hand. “How we doing, Lieutenant?” he asked softly, looking down at the tired face.

“We’ve definitely missed my mom’s call.” Paul replied wryly, staring up into his eyes. 

“That’s a shame. I’d left a PADD with some letters for you to send to her for my mom and dad.” He pushed Paul’s information from the medical PADD onto a larger screen. “I’m going to use a dermaplastic graft for this.” They had a dermal regenerator, but it was very new technology and didn’t work so well with large sections of skin. 

“I have a letter to send to your dad anyway. I’ve got some new seeds to give him next time we get back, but he’ll need to set up a new greenhouse environment for it. I figured I’d give him advance warning.”

“You two and your gardening.” Hugh chuckled as he got to work on the burns that covered Paul’s leg. Paul and Hugh’s dad had bonded over gardening and they always disappeared off to look at his dad’s greenhouses whenever they visited. Paul had never been bitter about the love in his husband’s family, which was so far from the scientist’s relationship with his own father, but he always managed to relax around them. 

“Some of the plants he has are coming along really well. I’m actually really impressed with the Andorian sweet fruits he’s got going in the greenhouse. The temperature regulations need to be applied carefully, based on a fair few different things but he’s got a knack for the cold climate food.”

“Is that why he’s set up another greenhouse with the low temperatures? Mom mentioned it in her last letter.” These were going on well, but Hugh decided to put a bandage over the top to ensure they stayed put. They didn’t need to be on for more than thirty hours, but hopefully the bulkiness would encourage Paul to take it easy for a day. 

“Mmm. He’s got a few from Vulcan but they take a long time to flower. The ones from Andoria should be seeding again now, so it’s a good time to set up another cold environment.”

“Your shoulder’s bruised, but I’ll put cream on that tonight. Now I want to scan your head.”

“And then bed.” Paul sighed, holding still as Hugh lined the machine up. 

“We’ll see where your head is at first. Then you’re eating.” Hugh replied, most of his attention on the read-out.

“I do eat, you know.” Paul whinged, his eyes seeking Hugh’s out as he tried not to move.

“Not when you’re busy.” But Hugh knew that Paul did most of the time; his worries were left over from their time at the academy where Paul and Straal would have definitely starved to death if Hugh hadn’t turned up to check up on them so often.

“Hugh…” Paul sighed as he was allowed to sit up. “How long until you finish?”

“About an hour and a half.” He ran his hand gently over the man’s head, carefully skimming over the lump that was there. “You’re just bashed up a bit though. No concussion so you can go back and rest.”

“Am I walking?” He asked, suddenly looking exhausted as the adrenaline and bravado faded. “Or am I waiting?”

“Neither.” Holden interrupted, coming to look over Paul’s data. “You’re free to go, but we’ll transport you back to your quarters.” But she failed to keep a straight face, a smirk bubbling up as she looked at where Paul’s trousers stopped mid-thigh. 

“Oh good.” 

“Dr Culber, if you’ll log the rest of these before the end of your shift, then I’m going to send you with him. He’s not allowed to work until the grafting comes off. I’ll send the captain a message after I get your report.” She picked up a hypo and administered it into Paul’s neck. “That will see you through tonight. Go back, get clean and into bed and make sure you eat when you wake up tomorrow.”

Hugh pocketed the cream for his husband’s bruises and grabbed his boot and sock before stepping closer. “Of course. As soon as he’s settled.” He nodded, helping Paul to his feet as the CMO tapped on a console. Seconds later, Paul was sitting heavily on the side of the bed, yawning as his eyes dipped. 

“Out of those.” He murmured, tugging off Paul’s remaining boot and sock then reaching up for his jacket. “I’ve got a shower wrap here, so we’ll get you clean, okay honey?”

“And then I can sleep?”

“And then you can sleep.” Stripping him off and wrapping the bandage, Hugh confidently shuffled his husband into their tiny shower cubicle. “Can you manage on your own?”

Paul frowned for a moment, thinking. They didn’t really like showering together, both preferring to have a bit more room to move in the small space, but Hugh would get in there if Paul needed help. “I think I’ll be okay.” Paul pressed a hand to Hugh’s face as he looked him over. “Don’t worry. I’ll shout if I need you.”

“Alright.” Hugh nodded, his lips pressed thin unhappily, but he leaned in and gave Paul a kiss. “I’ll fill in that report.”

He watched as Paul started the shower and ducked under the spray, then he turned away and pushed his emotions far enough down to fill in a report for Doctor Holden… one that would go to Captain Lorca.

If it hadn’t been for Lorca, pushing for advancements in the spore drive then they would have been able to cancel the experiments while they fixed the ship. If it hadn’t been for Lorca, they wouldn’t be spending so much time on the spore drive and the necessary maintenance would get done…

Hugh shook his head, picking up his PADD and focussing on the words. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much to fill in, and Holden could filter out anything that might slip through in the wordier paragraphs about Lorca. Half the medical staff were aware of his dislike of their captain anyway.

“Hugh? I need a towel.” Paul’s voice was soft, but the doctor was listening out for him. He sent the report, less edited than he usually considered complete, but he didn’t actually care.

“Here.” He wrapped Paul up and pulled him through. “Time for sleep.” And dressed in loose shorts and a t-shirt, his husband was asleep just five minutes later. 

Hugh stared for a moment at the man in the low light, already twisted in the sheets with his bandaged leg sticking out to the side. Today had not been a good day. “Shit.” He sighed suddenly. “I forgot to put the cream on.” But it could wait till the morning. Paul’s breathing had evened out and Hugh didn’t want to wake him up. 

But he couldn’t stay here, just staring. “Shower and bed.” He whispered, before grabbing his PADD and lowering the lights in the bedroom again. In the bathroom, with the door shut and blocking the brighter light out from Paul, he checked that Holden had messaged the Captain so no one would be expecting their Chief Engineer in the morning; then he grinned as he ready the CMO’s message to him, telling him the report had been sent and neither of them were expected to do work tomorrow.

“Shower and bed.” He repeated, putting his PADD down and getting moving.

\------

“Hugh?” The soft voice permeated the comfortable haze of his sleep. “Sorry, love. But I thought you’d want to be up before breakfast got here.”

“Huh?” Hugh lifted his head slightly, forcing his eyes open to gaze blearily out.

Paul was sat beside him, gently touching fingertips to his face as he grinned. “I wanted to eat so I sent Cadet Tilly a message to feed us.” 

“Cadet Tilly?” Hugh asked in confusion. He rolled onto his back, wincing as Paul chuckled and rubbed the dried drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Yep.” He smirked. “She went ahead of me and managed to miss that explosion so she owes me.”

Hugh snorted slightly. “You would have been more bothered if she had been caught in it.” He sat up, looking for his medical tricorder almost out of habit. 

“I suppose you rubbing cream all over my body will have to wait until she’s been.” Paul sighed, but he did at least hold still while Hugh checked him over. “You slept for nearly ten hours. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, honey. How’re you feeling?” Hugh reached up to cup his face. “Any pain?”

Paul hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes as he thought then nodded his head. “I ache a bit, especially my leg. I really want to itch it.” He grasped the hand on his face and pressed a kiss to Hugh’s fingers. “Am I on medical leave?”

“Until the grafts are off your leg.” Hugh gave him a kiss then got up off the bed. “So tomorrow we’ll see what state your leg is in and then we can make a decision. I expect it will be light duty.”

“What a shame.” Paul sounded so cheerful that Hugh, who was heading into their washroom, couldn’t help laughing quietly. “I guess I’ll just have to spend time in the cultivation bay. The underlings can crawl through the small spaces and do the engineering. I think better in there. I had no time yesterday for anything but boring, old engineering.”

Hugh was grinning widely as he washed his hands, “That’s what you get for agreeing to be Chief Engineer.” The door chimed so he headed over before Paul could shuffle to the edge of the bed. “You sit still.”

“Dr Culber, you… well, he said it was food for two people and I didn’t really think about that but of course it means someone else is going to be here and I-” She spoke very quickly, he noted as he stepped back.

“Cadet Tilly, is it?” Hugh interrupted, raising his voice slightly over her babbling. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It was just a surprise, I mean. Cos I don’t have a roommate, even though I’d like one. Cos they’re like an automatic friend, and none of my friends got posted to the Discovery and I don’t really know anyone yet and-”

“Thank you, Tilly. I’m sorry Paul felt the need to bother you, I could have gone and got us something to eat.” Hugh cut her off again.

“Hugh? I have a PADD for her, with work that needs sorting for today.” Paul called out from their bed, over the top of Tilly’s continued nervous chattering. “Thanks. I already sent out the other assignments to everyone while you were asleep. But I want Tilly’s work for the Spore Drive on this PADD. We adapted this PADD for what we need.”

“I remember you saying.” Vaguely, at least. Paul often got pretty excited over what he was doing and felt the need to talk about it in detail and while Hugh did listen at the time, it didn’t always stick with him.

“Tilly? I’ve had some ideas about increasing the odds for coming out in the right places when we jump. Compare the results with last week’s try and when I’m back tomorrow we’ll see whether or not it increases our jump range.” Paul called out from the bed, and Tilly finally looked passed Hugh to the double bed with her boss sat there.

“R-right.” She stuttered and Hugh turned to frown at Paul.

“I said light duty and only if your leg has healed properly.” He stated flatly, ignoring Tilly’s flinch as he took the tray from her and set it down on the table. “You said work in the cultivation bay, which is acceptable.”

“Hugh…” Paul’s expression became almost pleading as he handed the PADD over to him. “There’s only so much I can do in the actual bay.”

“You’re to make sure he doesn’t overtax himself. He’s to stay off his feet.” Hugh explained as calmly as he could as he passed her the PADD. 

She took it and looked quickly around before stepping closer and lowering her voice. “What, err…? What do I do if h- he won’t? I mean, I can’t _tell_ him to… you know…”

He grinned wryly, easily imaging Paul’s reaction to a cadet trying to boss him around. “He can get up to move between his chair and the bay. Other than that, if he’s about for anything other than food, drink and bathroom breaks, you message me.”

“O-Okay.” She nodded earnestly, shifting uncomfortably as she stood.

Hugh waited for a few moments before gently nudging her back out the door. “Goodbye, cadet. Thank you for bringing a tray.”

“Oh, right. Bye.” And with that she scurried off.

As the door shut behind him, Hugh huffed out a breath. “She’s… something…” 

“Enthusiastic? Exhausting? Loud?” Paul asked from the bed, sounding amused. “Help me over.”

“You can definitely make it to the sofa on your own.” Hugh laughed as he made his way over and took Paul’s arm. “Lucky for you, I’m a pretty generous guy and am willing to pander this one time.”

“And then a day in bed?” Paul asked, as he dropped heavily down to the seat, casting a seductive look up at him that was ruined by the bruises that were visible in places.

“The ‘bed’ part might happen later, if you’re careful with your leg and I’ve caught up on my datawork. Now take your shirt off, I’ll put that cream on your bruises.” He could see the light in Paul’s eyes as he began to strip out his top, but Hugh just hid his grin as he went to get the tube.


	2. Chapter 2

“Lieutenant Stamets to sickbay.”

“Sickbay here. Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“Can I expect Hugh back anytime soon? His shift finished nearly two hours ago.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. The away team got back earlier today but there’s been a problem and he’s performing surgery right now. I’ll ask him to com you when he has a chance.”

“Alright, thank you. Stamets out.”

Paul sighed and went back over to his dinner. The food spread out on the table went back onto the tray and he picked up a plate. “So much for date night.” He grumbled, but without any real venom. Hugh wouldn’t have been able to relax as long as there was something going on over there.

He did wonder what the problem was though. Ensign Logan and Cadet Wells had returned earlier in the day and been sent off to work straight away, but he hadn’t thought to ask how the mission had gone and as far as the Chief Engineer was aware, they had both finished their shifts without issue. 

He had little time to ponder though, as less than five minutes later, the com panel chimed “Lieutenant Bryce to Lieutenant Stamets.”

He’d only eaten a few bites, but he put the plate back down and went to answer the call. “Stamets here.”

“Lieutenant, I’ve been having problems with the subspace radio.” Paul could actually hear the exhaustion in the man’s voice. “I had Lieutenant Collins working with me this afternoon and we thought we’d sorted it, but something has messed up. I’m hoping a fresh set of eyes will spot the problem quicker.”

“The radio?”

“If you don’t mind. I know it’s kind of late, but we can’t receive or send messages to Starfleet right now.”

Paul barely had to think. “Yeah, that’s fine, Bryce. I’ll head there now.” After all, it was better than sitting around and waiting for Hugh to get back; he’d just get himself into a bad mood the longer his husband took.

“Thanks Stamets. I’ll meet you there so I can let you know what we’ve tried. Bryce out.”

And with that, Paul began to pull his boots back on. It was a shame as the two of them hadn’t had a chance to relax together in a few weeks, what with the effort Paul was putting into the Spore Drive and the CMO’s decision to take Hugh under her wing and train him as her second; they’d both been working more hours than they’d been off and their free hours didn’t always line up. 

The man picked up his jacket and his PADD before heading out the door. As he walked towards the elevator, he tapped a note over to Hugh’s PADD, knowing he’d check it when he had time. ‘ _Hey. Headed over to Central Operations to help L. Bryce with a problem. Let me know when you’ve finished up in Sick Bay._ ’ Hugh had a portable communicator with him at all times when he was on shift, but it wasn’t for personal use so Paul never contacted him on it.

He nodded at Commander Saru as they stood side-by-side in the lift, before the Kelpian turned to him. “I understand you will be helping Mr. Bryce with the subspace radio.”

“Yes sir.” He tried not to sound tired and surly, but wasn’t sure if he managed it. “I’m expecting a call from Lieutenant Straal on the Glenn in the morning, so it needs sorting soon.” They had a routine meeting every few weeks at minimum and Straal had been trying something new at the last one. Paul was decidedly keen to know if it had worked or not.

“Yes. There are several results that need sending over to Starfleet as well, including notes from an experiment I was overseeing.” His voice was as soft as usual, but Paul cut him off before he could finish talking.

“I am on my way to fix it now, sir. The report Collins filled in earlier said the problem had been fixed so I didn’t bother to check it out myself.” He could feel his bad mood rising, likely a result of his cancelled evening but he couldn’t seem to help the bitter feeling.

“Of course, Lieutenant, I understand.” The kelpian nodded his head gracefully as the door opened. “I just want to let you know that while these experiments aren’t vital to the war effort, they are important in other areas.”

“Yes sir.” He replied, not letting himself say anything else as he stepped out into the corridor and set off to find Lieutenant Bryce.

\------

“Right. That should be the false-positive reading sorted.” Paul huffed, his mind reeling after three hours of staring at wiring and boards. “See if you can get through to Starfleet. “

“Give me a minute.” Bryce replied before his line went quiet.

Paul rolled onto his back, staring up blankly at the top of the Jeffries tube he was in. They had been trying to sort the glitch out but everything was taking a long time because the display kept saying they were linked to the subspace beacon, but then they couldn’t send any messages. This was likely why Collins had thought the problem sorted earlier in the day. 

With one hand, he felt around for his PADD as his eyes fought to stay open. Maybe Hugh had answered. 

‘ _Hey. All sorted. Sorry for ruining our plans. I'll be back in 10 minutes or so._ ’ 

That had been sent nearly two hours ago. He clicked the next message.

‘ _Are you still working with L. Bryce?_ ’

‘ _I take it something has gone pretty wrong. I’m going to shower and read for a while. See you when you get back. Not feeling 110% so may head to bed early. Don’t worry though, probably just tired._ ’

Paul groaned softly, easily able to picture Hugh’s form as he curled comfortably into the back of their sofa and caught up on one of his fiction novels. He tapped out a reply, hoping Hugh was still up and waiting for him. 

‘ _Hopefully sorted now. Bryce is just checking._ ’

As he put the PADD back down, his portable communicator chirped. 

“Bryce to Stamets.”

“Still here.”

“I hate to say it, but that hasn’t fixed the problem at all.” Bryce sounded as exhausted as Paul felt.

“I think we need to make a detour to check the subspace beacon then. Those connectors were the last things that could be faulty so it’s nothing on our end.”

“Thanks for trying.” Bryce sighed quietly. “I’ll contact Commander Saru and let him know. Sorry to call you out over nothing.” 

“Good night.” He replied, before gathering up his tools and PADD back into the bag. He didn’t waste any time crawling to an exit and scrambling inelegantly back out. 

“Lieutenant? I thought you finished for the day.” 

Paul glanced up to see Cadet Wells looking down in confusion, jogging on the spot to keep himself warmed up as he spoke. “I was until there was a problem that needed looking at.” The chief engineer sighed unhappily, clunking shut the hatch he had just left. “I heard there was a medical problem with someone from the away team today. That wasn’t you, I take it?”

“No sir. I think Commander Landry cut her leg rather badly and it wouldn’t stop bleeding, but she seemed more annoyed than actually hurt. Is there anything I can help you with, sir? Did you get the problem sorted?”

“You get back to your run. It’s nothing that can be fixed now.” 

“Yes sir.” And the young man hurried on, leaving behind his drained superior. 

Thankful that his room wasn’t far from the storage unit for his tools, Paul heavily plotted back. Once free, he headed back into their quarters, yawning widely.

“Hugh?” He called out, seeing the covers were pulled back on the bed, but that it was empty.

There was a groan from the washroom, followed by the sound of vomiting. The noise had Paul hurrying through before he had even taken his boots off. 

Face down over the toilet, Hugh was dry-retching, as though he had nothing left in his stomach to being up. Paul grabbed a towel, soaking it in cold water and wringing it out as he crouched down to pull his husband back against him.

“Hey.” He whispered, gently dabbing at Hugh's sweaty forehead. 

“Paul.” Came a soft sigh, as one hand flopped into his lap. 

“All done?” He asked, as soothingly as he could. At the slight nod, he shifted back and began to help Hugh up. “Sick bay then.” 

Hugh pulled a face at that but didn’t argue. Everyone who was sick on a starship had to get checked out as it was a closed environment; Paul knew Hugh's speech on this by heart.

“You sit there a minute.” He muttered, dropping Hugh on the sofa before heading over to get his husband's sneakers. “I would've preferred to be undressing you, if I'm honest.” 

“Sorry, love.” Hugh breathed, still sitting limply as Paul knelt at his feet. 

“Come on. Let’s go make sure you’ve not picked up something that’ll wipe out all life on board.” 

But despite his cheerful done, Paul couldn’t help the worry that was flooding through him. If Hugh had checked the away team over when they had returned... if they had contracted an illness on the planet... Paul shuddered to think Hugh might be sick with something not meant for humans. He kept a tight grip on his waist as they sat out into the corridor, trying not to squeeze as he focussed on how far they had left.

“Paul...” Hugh grunted as they waited for the lift. “I’m going to be sick again.”

“No, you’re not.” He denied, unwilling to entertain the idea. “Try counting instead.” It was what Paul’s mom had told him to do when he'd been sick as a child.

They stepped into the lift and Paul watched as Cadet Tilly limped in after them.

“Are... are you guys okay?” she asked, stepping back against the panels as she noticed what state Hugh was in.

“We’re heading to sick bay.” Paul stated, hoping she didn’t start babbling. He was tired and worried, and he wasn’t sure he could be polite through it.

“Me too. I went over on my ankle.” But she stopped there as Hugh began to retch. 

“You’re fine.” Paul whispered, rubbing his back as Hugh caught the tiny bit of bile with his sleeve. 

When the doors opened, Tilly kept pace with them. She didn’t talk, but limped slowly along while casting nervous glances at both of them.

“Doctor Culber!” Doctor Pollard made her way quickly over, directing a nurse to speak to Tilly as he helped Hugh sit on a bio-bed. Commander Landry was asleep on the one opposite. “What happened?”

Paul waited a moment, but Hugh didn’t answer. He just remained sitting up as he curled against Paul. 

“I’m not sure.” The scientist admitted. “I had a message about two hours ago saying he was going to have a read but I only just got back. I found him throwing up.”

“Let’s have a look.” She murmured in a soothing voice that all doctors seemed to have as she scanned him with the handheld medical tricorder. “Hmmm...”

“What does that mean?” Paul asked, rubbing Hugh’s back as the man began to relax. 

She grabbed a hypo and fitted an empty vial to it. “It’ll be best if we test some of his blood.” She explained without explaining anything, in Paul’s opinion.

“What does that mean?” He repeated, starting to feel worried as Pollard handed the vial over to a nurse and asked him to help Hugh lie down.

“I’ll do a full scan, but he’s showing similar symptoms to Commander Landry.” 

“Landry?” He stepped back as Pollard started the scan, husband drifting from his husband to the Chief of Security. “I thought she’d just hurt her leg.”

“She tripped and fell when she did, which is where her infection came from. Dr Culber was cleaning it out earlier on.” She frowned as she looked at the monitor for his scan. “If it’s airborne then it’s probably going to go round the crew.” 

“Is Landry recovering?” He asked hesitantly, hoping his partner was going to improve soon.

“It was nasty while it got going and her fever hasn’t broke yet, but she's resting for now.” She gave him a serious look. “It's not going to be pleasant for him, but he’s in the best place.”

Paul crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hold back his comments as he watches her work. 

“Here. Help him get changed.” She handed over the grey clothing of sick bay patients and allowed him to help Hugh over to the side room. 

“Don’t you get sick.” Hugh whispered as he sat on the bench and Paul stepped close enough to help get his pyjama top off. 

“When have you ever known me to get sick?” He asked confidently, before catching the amused look on his partner's face. “Don’t look like that. Self inflicted doesn’t count.” He paused for a moment, and added “and random accidents that result in injury don’t either.”

“Paul…” Hugh whispered again, and the man could only hold his sick husband’s gaze for a moment, his chest contracting painfully as he saw the struggle to keep those beautiful brown eyes open.

He tugged the clean top over Hugh’s head before helping him out of his sweaty pj bottoms. “Need the toilet before we get you dressed again?” he inquired, now supporting a lot of Hugh’s weight. 

“I want to lie down.” He replied, letting his head drop to Paul’s shoulder. “I want to lie down in my own bed.”

“I’m sorry, dear doctor. You know that can’t happen just yet.”

After an awkward struggle to get Hugh fully dressed, the men shuffled slowly into the main section of sickbay and Paul helped ease his partner onto a bed. 

“It’s alright, Lieutenant.” Pollard had come to stand beside him. “We’ll look after him. You go get some sleep.”

The scientist shook his head unhappily. “I don’t need sleep just yet.”

“You look terrible, Paul.” Piped up a weak voice from the bed. “Go get some sleep.”

“I’ll com you if he gets any worse.” She assured him, before herding him quickly out the door.

Paul stood and stared into sickbay for a long moment, watching Pollard head back over to Hugh and start talking to him. Just out the way, with his arms now empty, the man felt entirely useless and almost too tense to sleep. He turned headed for the mess, with plans for a hot cup of coffee; he could collect his PADD and have a think about what might be wrong with the subspace beacon. There was no harm in being prepared.

\------

It was far too early when the computer woke him, and Paul rolled slowly out of bed and staggered to the shower. He had spent half the night awake, unable to settle down; not because Hugh was missing, Paul had no trouble sleeping when the doctor was working the night shift, but because his husband was ill and Paul had spent the night dreading the beeping of the com, with someone on the other end telling him Hugh’s condition had deteriorated.

He got himself ready in a daze, sitting and eating breakfast in the mess with no real thought about what he was doing. It wasn’t until Bryce sat down opposite him that Paul managed to get his thoughts moving. 

“We'll be at the beacon in half an hour.” He said as he sat down, putting his PADD down and tapping it. “I’ve been having a think about what the problem might be.”

“It's hopefully just faulty wiring.” Paul replied, looking down at his half-eaten toast. “It has to be working intermittently for us to keep getting the false-positive readings.”

“I hope it’s something that simple.” His lips twisted into a wry grin. “You may have to spend a few hours outside fixing it, but it’s better than having to try replacing large parts.”

“The nearest star-base is another twenty seven hours.” Paul sighed, looking at the display on Bryce’s PADD. “Which we'll need to visit if we need to replicate any large parts for it.” 

And while he hasn’t been thinking about the upcoming conversation with Straal, he was suddenly aware that he wasn’t going to be able to talk to his friend until this problem was repaired. Resisting the urge to swear miserably, he glanced through the notes Bryce had made on the solutions they had tried as the other man ate. 

“Did you tell the captain?” He asked curiously, wondering the communications officer had dared to wake their bad tempered leader or not. 

“No. I left a message with Commander Saru and he had us alter course when he woke up.” He didn’t look guilty about taking the longer, easier route to getting the beacon fixed, and Paul honestly didn’t blame him. Despite occasionally butting heads with the commander, he would have left Saru a message as well, especially as Lorca never seemed to like contact with Starfleet.

“Lieutenant Bryce, Lieutenant Stamets, report to the shuttle bay.”

Bryce cast a longing look at his half finished tray as the men stood up. “I wasn't supposed to start my shift until 1300 today.” But he didn’t actually stop to finish it. 

‘ _Stamets to Sickbay. Has Hugh’s condition improved?_ ’

Paul tapped out a message as they waited for a lift, aware that he wouldn’t be able to visit before he had to get to work.

‘ _Holden to Stamets. Dr Culber is currently asleep, his fever has been up and down during the night but has not broken yet. Ensign Logan and his roommate have both arrived with the same symptoms, so make your way here if you feel unwell at all._ ’

Paul’s frown apparently attracted Bryce’s attention. “Are you okay?”

“Some of the away team from yesterday are sick and so one of their roommates and Doctor Culber.” He thought for a moment, but decided that he was as well as could be expected on little sleep. “Doctor Holden wants me to head to sickbay if I show any symptoms of an illness.”

“I’ll keep an eye on you for her.” Bryce chuckled, his tone friendly as it often was when Bryce spoke with him; the good-natured attitude often took him off-guard, but he managed to avoid snapping in response to the light joke. He did manage a smile though, strained as it was, but Bryce was already stepping off the elevator and heading down the corridor, more than used to his colleague’s difficulty with banter.

“Oh man…” Bryce stopped just inside the doorway, his attention already on the display that Crewman Kim had on the monitor. “That is going to take some fixing.”

Stepping closer, Paul brought up the sensor readouts for it. “It looks like it… ah, great. Those bugs that eat electricity. I’m going to need someone else out here to help.”

“One of your cadets?” Bryce asked, with most of his attention on the monitor. 

“Not for this. I just want it all fixing properly, so we don’t need to make our way back here in the future.” Paul shook his head as he brought up the duty rota on his PADD. “Either Collins, Harrington or Harper.” Harrington had just finished a double shift and Collins was doing routine but vital maintenance on the warp core, so pressing the com, he called for the third of his best options. “Ensign Harper, report to shuttle bay. Ensign Harper to the shuttle bay.”

As they waited, Paul began to organise his tools and equipment. They would need to replicate several panels before leaving, but none of those were big enough to need producing on a star-base. Harper was an older woman, content in her position as Ensign and more than capable of taking care of the infestation while Paul fixed the actual beacon. 

“Sir.” Harper headed over and listened patiently as Bryce caught her up to speed. Paul set their stuff near the exit and headed over to get two EV suits out.

“Talk while getting ready please.” He called out as he unzipped his jacket. “Or are you all caught up?”

“Just about, sir.”

“We’re going to have to travel over there instead of taking the ship or a shuttle in.” He explained as he tugged off his boots. “We can’t risk the infestation spreading to Discovery.”

“I just need to keep them off you?” She began to strip down as well. 

“No.” He sat down to pull on the undersuit. “They need eliminating completely, or they’ll just ruin the beacon again.”

“Understood.”

“I’m going to fix what I can. The nuclear energy device will need replacing completely; that’s going to take the most time. If you finish before I do, you can give me a hand; it is rather cumbersome.” 

“Yes sir.” 

Bryce helped him pull on his outer suit, displaying none of the nerves that Paul could feel bubbling up inside him. His stomach decidedly sour, he mentally cursed the need to get kitted out like this before grabbing his pack and fastening it securely on. 

“I’m calling you back every hour.” Bryce told them both, but the way his gaze lingered on the Chief Engineer hinted that he had taken Holden’s concerns to heart and didn’t want to risk Paul getting sick while he was away from the ship. 

“That’s fine. It’s delicate enough that it’ll take at least two hours to sort though.”

“I’ll monitor from over here.”

Bryce turned and headed back to Kim as Paul and Harper left the ship, using their thrusters to head over to the beacon.

It really was in a bad state, and as Harper began to blast the critters, Paul searched for the best place to start.

\------

“You always have to overdo it. Don’t you?” a warm voice said, just to the left of Paul’s head.

He peeled his eyes open to see Hugh smiling down at him. “What?” He tried to sit up, but Hugh pushed him back down.

“Do you remember what happened?” The question was asked as a gentle hand carded though his hair. 

“You were sick. Did your fever break?” Paul remembered, his eyes seeking out his partner’s as concern battled fatigue. 

“You’ll note I’m the one standing up.” Hugh grinned down at him, but Paul noticed that he was still in the grey sickbay clothing. “Do you remember fixing the beacon?”

“I… did I finish that?” 

“Yeah, you idiot. You did. Then you fainted as soon as you stepped back into the ship’s gravity.” Hugh’s eyes kept flicking up to the monitor, too often for Paul’s comfort. 

“Am I still sick then?”

“Yeah, but we’ve worked out how to treat the symptoms.” Hugh gave him a wry smile, one hand still touching his head. “It’s an airborne virus which means all the humans, andorians and arkenites have got it, but it isn’t too serious once the fever is under control so we’re going to head back to our quarters while we recover. Thankfully it hasn’t spread through the other species we have serving here.” His grin suddenly doubled, a harsh glint in his eye. “Captain Lorca has been completely bed-ridden by it. It’s gotten him worse than anyone else.”

“My own bed.” Paul moaned in delight, latching onto the important part of Hugh’s response. “Can we go now?”

“You need checking over by someone who is on duty.” He pulled away. “I’ll just be a minute.”

With Hugh away, Paul began to slowly sit himself up, surprised at the severity of his aching limbs. Looking around, he could see the buzz of activity around him, the whole room far more tense than it usually was. Checking he was clothed, Paul swung his legs down. 

“I haven’t actually said you can go yet, Lieutenant Stamets.” Doctor Holden spoke up as she crossed over to him, medical tricorder in hand. 

“I can though, right?” He asked, for once not caring about the pleading tone in his voice.

“Give me a minute.” She held the rod out to scan him. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired and achy, but I’m not nauseous at all.” He was pleased about that, he hated being sick.

“I should think not with the cocktail we have you on right now.” She sighed and stepped back, looking exhausted herself. “Right, you can leave. However, I want you back here every twenty four hours for another dose of medicine. Your last one was 1600, so you have another nineteen hours till I want to see you again.”

She nodded to Hugh before turning to speak to Nurse Nestor. 

“You are feeling better now, right?” Paul checked, unable to forget how sick Hugh had been.

“You’ve been out for nearly two days.” Hugh replied soothingly as he helped Paul up and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’m still on the medicine too, but I feel fine. I’m only out of uniform so no one thinks I’m on duty.”

“That’s good.” He sighed, leaning on his husband with more confidence now he knew Hugh could help. “Did the beacon get sorted? Our subspace communications were out.”

“Straal has left you one or two messages.” Hugh laughed as they shuffled along. “You might even think he’s getting frantic about you.”

“That’s wonderful.” He chuckled, already planning to mock his friend, even if it was nice to know the man had been worried. 

“But I’ll tell him to shut up until the morning if he calls again, because _you_ are going to sleep now.”

Paul nodded but didn’t answer. He hated to admit it, but the walk to their quarters felt twice as long as usual and he was beyond ready to fall into bed. This time, he’d be able to rest with Hugh settled in beside him.

"And just so you know, you're getting a lecture later on about heading out when you're sick."

He grunted quietly. "Something to look forward to."


	3. Chapter 3

Hugh huffed in acute irritation as he strode over to pick up his instrument; this was the second fist fight that had resulted in broken bones in three days and he was already sick of it. On another bio-bed, he could see Doctor Harris knitting the skin back together on the hand of a cadet who had gotten carried away in the gym. 

This couldn’t go on. The thought was one he’d had several times over the last fortnight and it wasn’t easing off. “Hold still while I fix your nose.” He barked as the ensign he was treating kept shifting. “And next time, try solving your problems in another way.”

“She’s my roommate and she’s my colleague. It’s not that I don’t like her, but every time I turn around; there she is.” The ensign complained, the anger that had been in her tone when she’d first entered sickbay had ebbed away now; it had left behind an exhaustion that Hugh was familiar with. 

“Then ask Lieutenant Rhys if you can spend a shift doing maintenance somewhere, ask for a shift by yourself, ask for a change in the rotas so you aren’t together all the time.” There were various ways to avoid a person if you needed to.

“You don’t know when we’re due some shore leave? Last one was so short I didn’t really get a chance to enjoy myself.” She looked up, but there was no hope in her expression; the misery of it cemented a lingering idea in Hugh’s mind.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” He replied, softening his voice as he moved from her face to fixing her broken hand.

“Maybe I should just tell Ellie that I need a bit more space.” The ensign muttered reluctantly, staring over at Harris as she spoke.

Hugh nodded. “She’s bound to prefer that over you trying to break her nose.” Or pushing and shoving; they’d had a number of injuries from that too, not quite fist fights but people definitely being rougher than they should have been.

“Thanks, Doctor Culber. It was nice to talk to someone without shouting.”

As she hurried out the room, Hugh turned to see Holden leaning against a wall. “She had a good point.” He stated gently. “Last shore leave was two months ago and we only had five hours each. It was barely a break at all.” Hugh had wandered around that Star-Base on his own as Paul had spent his own leave sleeping, having been at a critical stage in work on the Spore Drive at the time.

She sighed and held out a PADD. “I know. I’m making notes of all the incidents we’re having.” He took it, scanning through as she spoke. “The crew is getting less efficient with working so much, so I’m going to bring this to Lorca soon.”

“Update it and I’ll take it to him now.” Hugh grumbled, his own temper suffering with the lack of a break. 

She gave a wry smile. “I’ll update it and you can take it closer to the end of your shift.” She took the device back off him. “That way, if he breaks your nose then it’ll be your own time you waste getting it fixed.”

“He’s a Starfleet captain and I’ll be making an official recommendation.” He pointed out. “I know I don’t like him, but even he won’t hit me for that.”

“I’m just suggesting you wait until you’re in a better mood.” 

“I’m not going to start a fight with the captain.” He complained, rolling his eyes.

“You say that…” Harris had finished with his own patient and was tapping on his PADD as he joined them, “but you had to leave the room before you went for him last week.”

“He was claiming Paul wasn’t working hard enough.” Hugh objected, crossing his arms over his chest as the irritation flooded through him again. “When I’ve barely seen Paul for the last few weeks! I honestly don’t know how he d-”

“I’m aware Lieutenant Stamets is working hard!” Harris assured him, holding up his hands as he cut Hugh off. “I’m just saying that if you want to talk to him, you’ll need to be relaxed.”

“Go get your datawork done, both of you.” Holden shooed them off to the office as she went to clear up the instruments left out. “Don’t even think about talking to Lorca yet. If you can’t face him calmly then I’ll go.”

“I’ll give it a few hours.” Hugh sighed, picking up his PADD as he stepped into the office and dropped into a chair. Holden was training him to be CMO, but she didn’t take the easy route. He did a lot of the patient work she would do, while she observed and made suggestions; it was tiring but effective. He was learning a lot, including how to deal with the stress of so much responsibility. 

The datawork wasn’t hard to do it terms of difficulty, but it was mind-numbing and he didn’t even do half of what the CMO had to get though. Unfortunately, while working with the crew who came in for help was something Hugh quite often enjoyed; datawork was the bit he struggled with. There was something about sitting down and trying to quiet his mind enough that he had issues with. 

“No falling asleep.” Harris said as he came inside a few minutes later, grinning as he saw Hugh’s drooping shoulders. “And no daydreaming either.”

Hugh rolled his eyes, a reluctant grin coming to his own face as he focussed on the screen before him.

\------

“As you can see, sir, these incidents are becoming more frequent.” Hugh explained as Lorca scrolled through the reports.

“Can’t you give the crew something to cheer them all up?” He asked, a slight frown on his face.

“Sir, the best thing for everyone would be at least a few days of shore leave at a base with good recreational facilities, like Star-Base 88.” Hugh pushed his own point, refusing to acknowledge the captain’s suggestion; there was no way he was going to mass-prescribe drugs to placate the crew until Lorca could be bothered to give them a break. 

“We’re at war, Dr Culber. There isn’t the time for the crew to spend a week playing with fluffy animals. Send anyone who gets into a fight to me and I’ll have a word to them.” Lorca was scowling as he handed the PADD back over, but Hugh did not approve of his idea. 

“You can’t do th-”

“To me, doctor. I’ll do what I must to stop this behaviour.” Lorca interrupted, but the doctor wasn’t going to let it go.

“Sir, since this ship has set out, we’ve spent a total of eight days on leave. That’s more than five months of working and just over a week of rest. It’s not enough.” He raised his voice, cutting the captain off as he opened his mouth to speak again. “If you don’t give everyone a decent break, then I’m going to log an official complaint with Starfleet that you are going against medical advice and that the crew is suffering for it.”

“Doctor…” Lorca started, his voice placating but the expression on his face didn’t match and so Hugh carried on. 

“The crew needs a rest. Our last leave was less than a day long and split into shifts, people only got five hours.”

“That break was for resupplying, I needed the crew to be working while we were there.”

“That is my point, captain.” He gritted his teeth and tried to breathe deeply, to push back the emotional haze that was attempting to descend over him. “They need a break. It’s affecting them mentally and-”

“They have off hours, and plenty of them.” Lorca stated, his voice softening dangerously. 

“It’s not the same, sir.” Hugh folded his arms behind his back, resisting the urge to get more aggressive; an urge that only ever occurred around their captain, who rubbed him in entirely the wrong way. “They need a change of environment which they can’t get on board. They’re mentally exhausted. That’s why tempers are short and everyone is struggling to focus. If we have a decent shore leave, then the crew will be fresh and more efficient when they return.”

Lorca held his gaze for a long moment, those cold eyes searching for something, but Hugh remained where he was and kept eye contact. He was not going to be intimidated out of this. 

“Fine. By the recommendation of my medical officers, everyone can have week’s leave at…” Lorca paused and brought up a map, clearly searching for the closest base, “Star-Base 88.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hugh replied, the words filling him with relief as the captain dismissed him and he hurried out of the Ready Room. As he stepped onto the lift, he could hear Lorca telling Detmer to change course.

\------

“A week without work.” Hugh hummed happily as he and Paul settled into the quarters they’d been assigned for their leave.

“I still have several experiments going, but I’ve got the computer monitoring as much as possible.” Paul gave Hugh a gentle smile. “It means I’ll only need to check once a day.”

“You’re meant to be relaxing.” Hugh chided as he finished unpacking his bag.

“I will be. It’s one late morning check on systems and experiments each day because Commander Airiam and Lieutenant Collins both offered to help out as well.” Paul grinned as he unzipped his jacket and flopped onto the couch. “I can’t believe we got shore leave over your birthday. Did you hear back from your parents yet?” 

“Yeah. Your mom called yesterday. My parents told her that they’re gonna com us tomorrow morning.” Hugh sat down next to him, rubbing a hand over his husband’s thigh as he relaxed.

“Excellent. I’ll let them say happy birthday, before I talk to your dad… as suppose I should let them talk to you first.” Paul let out a large sigh, barely keeping the mirth from his voice as he spoke.

Hugh laughed, leaning into him. “You wanting to talk about gardening again?”

“I know you find it boring.” Paul stated, as he wrapped an arm around Hugh’s shoulders. “But he’s actually doing a better job of growing the alien specimens than some of the cultivation labs on Earth. Commander Parker wants to know if they can talk to him about it.”

“It’s crazy that a man who can burn toast is doing so well with growing alien foods.” Hugh mused, remembering years of choking down blackened lumps because his dad preferred to cook than to get everything pre-made. 

“Are we heading to the mess here for food or eating in our quarters?” asked Paul, yawning despite the fact that was only mid-afternoon.

“This base has lounging parlours.” Hugh informed him with a smile on his face. “We can eat out first then go relax there for a few hours.”

“You wanting to shower before we head out?” Paul asked, making no attempt to move just yet. “Or when we get back?”

Hugh pulled himself up slowly, stretching as he began to appreciate how much time they’d be able to spend together. “Later. Now get up.”

They left their uniforms on, as their non-issued clothing was lacking in quantity, and strolled hand in hand through the base. It was a large base held in geosynchronous orbit around a moon; the base was designed for quieter people, older people, if Hugh was going to aim for a stereotype; whereas the moon was designed more for the youthful, louder crewmembers who came by, with activities like parties and clubs. There was hiking trails and an abandoned alien temple of some kind on it, for those who wanted fresh air and exercise, but Hugh knew they would stay on the actual Star-Base. 

“Huh…” He murmured as they walked into the food court. “There is a lot more choice here than I expected.” 

“Traditional food or something easy?” Paul asked as he looked around, equally startled after so much time eating on board.

Hugh gave him a serious look. “We are not eating replicator food.” He flat out told him. 

Paul gave him a grin, clearly thinking the same thing. “Earth food or something else?” But he was already looking over to a section that served familiar meals.

“Earth today, I think.” Hugh said gently, enjoying the smells that filled the air. “But we’ve got to try something else while we’re here.”

“So long as it’s nothing that moves.” Paul replied as they swiped their ID chips at the monitor on the entrance to the Earth section. 

“I agree!” Andorian food wasn’t too bad, and Vulcan food was edible, if a little bland. But when he thought of alien food, Archer’s report from a century earlier of traditional Klingon dishes came to mind and turned his stomach. 

“I can’t believe Lorca gave us a week off.” Paul sighed, his lips curling into a smile as they placed their order and dropped into chairs.

“I had to threaten to go to Starfleet brass if he didn’t give us shore leave.” The doctor answered, his eyes focussing on Paul’s lips for a long moment before he managed to drag them up and look into the blue eyes he loved so much. 

“Bet he loved that!” his husband snorted, his face lighting up as it always did whenever Hugh managed to best their captain.

Hugh smiled wistfully. “Maybe not, but we really need a break.” But even he was slightly surprised that Lorca had given them a week of this. “Is it bad that I can’t wait to have an early night?”

“No.” Paul laughed. “I can go to bed at the same time as you without having to wait for you to escape Holden.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Although he was grinning widely. “And anyway, half the time I have to go to the main engineering test bay to find you asleep at your desk.”

“Only because I’m waiting for you to finish.” Paul’s face had softened into a warm expression. “It’s not the same sitting around our quarters without you.”

Hugh sighed contentedly, utter fondness for his husband flooding through him as he sat back to let the server place their meals down. After a word of thanks, the server left and the two men tucked eagerly into their dinner.

“Is it right that food tastes better when it’s actually cooked?” Paul asked after a few minutes of silence, each of them focussing on eating.

“They ought to be identical, but I kind of agree. Replicators can’t add flare to their cooking.” There were herbs and spices in his sauce that weren’t an option on board and it was mouth-watering.

“We should get Starfleet to give us a cook.” Paul mused after a little while, most of his attention still on his dinner. “They’d be the most popular person on the Discovery.”

“We had a cook when I was on the Endeavour.” Hugh pointed out. “He was a total dick to everyone but his cooking was perfect.”

“How does that even work with shift patterns?” The scientist wondered, slowing down as he was already reaching the end of his meal.

“There was always food in the cabinets that we could have at any time, and he did big meals twice a day.” He smiled happily as he pushed his plate away, having finished his own food. “We had replicators on board, but they weren’t used anywhere near as often.”

“I think I’m more than a little envious.” 

“As you sh-should be.” Hugh yawned widely, suddenly exhausted now that he had eaten. 

“Bed? Or the lounging parlour?” Paul asked, standing up and holding out his hand.

“Too early for bed.” Hugh got to his feet and they strode out together. “Let’s go lie down there for a while.”

The lounging parlours were one of Hugh’s favourite places on this Star-Base. They were large rooms, filled with cushions and bedding, with soft floors, warm temperatures and gentle music. A lot of Star-Bases had them, and when he’d been at the academy, the medical department had one for their cadets; they were designed for reducing stress and encouraging bond-building in a relaxed environment. Unfortunately, they weren’t common on starships so it was only on leave that they got to spend any time in them.

“Of course it’s got opera playing today.” Paul whispered in a false-complaint as they stopped at the entrance to hand their jackets and boots over at the counter.

“Come on.” Hugh softly replied, taking his hand and leading him over to an unoccupied corner. 

“Don’t let me sleep.” Paul murmured as he stretched out on the sleeping foam. “I’ll be awake at a stupid time in the morning.”

“I used to love this at the academy.” Hugh mused as he curled up behind his husband. Talking was permitted in these parlours, but it had to be very quiet or you’d be approached by an usher. “When you used to finish your shift but didn’t want to go back to your room.”

“Thanks.” Paul grumbled, turning enough to catch Hugh’s eye. “I seem to recall spending a lot of time in your room then.”

“That’s because you were avoiding Straal.” He replied, grinning as he remembered their days in the academy. 

“I didn’t realise you weren’t going to your room because of me.” Paul turned all the way, the slight frown on his face making Hugh realise he wasn’t joking about it.

“I wasn’t. The parlour at the academy was closer to the med unit than my dorm; besides, when I was in my room at the same time as you, I didn’t exactly get any work done… or any sleeping, actually.” They’d had a lot of sex when they’d been at the academy; only with each other, but they hadn’t had the self-control back then to work quietly in Hugh’s dorm room side by side.

“You could have told me to go back.” Paul still looked upset, so Hugh wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against his chest.

“I didn’t want you to go back.” On more than one occasion, the other cadets had teased him about having a sex slave held prisoner in his room; but honestly, the thought of Paul sleeping in his bed had been exciting back at the academy. Looking down at him now, the thought of Paul in their bed was synonymous with the thought of being home. “I’ve always liked knowing where you are and I liked the idea that you had somewhere to go when Straal got to be too much for you.”

“You’d tell me though, right?” Paul’s voice was smaller than normal. “When you wanted me to go away.”

“Yes. In fact, I recall several times when I did.” Usually when Paul had outright been hiding from Straal, but once or twice when something had gone wrong for Hugh and he’d still been concerned about showing Paul every side of himself. 

“Straal was an idiot when we were at the academy though.” Paul muttered as he relaxed against Hugh’s chest, tangling their legs together as he got comfortable.

Hugh snorted slightly, but didn’t say anything. Straal had been a heavy drinker at the academy and quite content to try any drugs that came his way. In fact, Straal ending up in the med-bay at the academy was how he had reconnected with Paul, who he’d spent a night with while he’d been away with friends on Alpha Centuri but had forgotten to get contact details for; it had been a surprise when he’d been treating a cadet with alcohol poisoning, only to recognise the patient’s roommate who had turned up to find out what was taking so long.

That was back when Paul had been planning to be an engineer. He hadn’t been on the science track at all but had been doing very well in operations; in fact, they hadn’t started studying spores until about twelve years ago, when Paul had come across his original samples on an away mission, while he was an ensign on the USS Penzance. Then had come about sixteen months of Paul talking to Straal more than he spoke to Hugh, however as Hugh had been deep in his studies to specialise in neurology at the time, he hadn’t complained too much. 

Paul had then had to work on spores in his spare time, still content in working as an engineer even while taking up a science with an enthusiasm that wasn’t surprising to anyone who knew him. All cadets had to have a good understanding of sciences, regardless of what their course was and Paul had been recommended for sciences at the academy by numerous professors, having thrived in those subjects; he’d been a top grade student, so when he switched from operations to science, it was because his research had been noticed and Starfleet had wanted the two friends to develop it further. While keeping the rank of lieutenant junior grade, he and Straal had been given their own lab on Earth and Paul had spent the next nine years switching between working on a ship and working in the lab (because Paul could complain that the war had pulled him out of his lab all he liked, but the man’s longest stint on Earth had been thirteen months before he’d ended up on a ship again; on the other hand, Straal had spent very little time in space and hadn’t planned to leave Earth until he hadreceived a post on the Glenn. Paul claimed that Straal was still an ensign because he had spent so much time on Earth and struggled to toe the line with any kind of authority; however, Hugh was aware that Straal got to spend more time working on the Spore Drive than Paul as he wasn’t bogged down with other responsibilities. 

All the while Hugh had continued his own studies and taken a posting on a starship as well. They’d both dotted between ship and planet and base but had stayed in contact, determined to make their long-distance relationship work They'd actually married pretty early in their relationship; which had been a source of concern for their families who had thought they were rushing things due to their duties to Starfleet. Still, Paul had coped with the distance better than Hugh had. The doctor kept having visions of his partner starving to death (a worry that hadn’t completely faded, even now), and he had commed Paul on a regular basis to chat with him and check up on how he was doing; not that Paul had ever complained in earnest. Now and again, he commented that he had grown up since he had been at the academy and knew to take better care of himself, but for the most part, Paul was content to let Hugh keep an eye on his health. 

Even so, the doctor knew Straal found him to be overbearing, with his need to know how Paul was doing, down to eating and sleeping habits; he was even aware that they had once not spoken for over two weeks because of it, though Paul had never told him the exact details; but he couldn’t help the worry that developed when they were far away from each other.

This posting, Hugh mused and he rubbed a hand over Paul’s back, should have been perfect. It was Paul’s first tour in silver, rather than copper (even though he had still been given the post of Chief Engineer, along with all the responsibilities that came with it), and Hugh was here, getting the additional experience required to one day be a Chief Medical Officer; this ship had been designed around his partner’s research, and they were approaching their tenth wedding anniversary. Everything should have been perfect…

Except for Lorca. 

Hugh could not stand their captain. He wasn’t convinced Lorca was mentally sound and he was sure the man kept an eye out for trouble so that he could drop them into it. It was like he refused to accept the fact that he had been given command of a science ship and was trying to retrain everyone to fight the wars he wanted to throw himself into. He didn’t know a way of leading outside of bullying and manipulation, didn’t know how to inspire genuine confidence in his crew… and that was the sad part; because if it had been just Hugh, or if it had been any other ship, he would have left or tried to talk Paul into leaving, especially with how often Lorca tried to bully and manipulate Paul into working harder with the Spore Drive. Hugh would have happily said ‘Fuck you’ to their Captain and found another posting, and as a neurologist he would have had no trouble getting another posting; but the Spore Drive was the result of Paul and Straal’s work for the past twelve years and he knew his husband was never going to leave the ship. He loved his work too much.

“You’re meant to be relaxing.” Grumbled Paul sleepily, and Hugh realised how tense he had gotten, his hand how pressing hard on the man’s back instead of resting on it and his breathing choppy.

“I can’t help it.” He whispered apologetically. “I try to relax, then my mind goes to Lorca and I get angry all over again.”

“Just need to let it wash over you.” He slurred in response, apparently closer to sleep than Hugh had realised. “He’s a means to an end.”

“Let’s head off.” Hugh helped Paul to his feet, deciding to leave the conversation behind. “You’re nearly asleep.”

Once they had tugged their boots and jackets back on, the two men strolled languidly along the corridors, enjoying the silence. Despite the panelling being so similar to the Discovery and the fact that the windows still only showed space, the change in scenery was enough that Hugh liked the difference. 

Back in their rooms, teeth brushed and pyjamas on, Paul turned to look at Hugh as he lay out on the bed. “I do mean it, you know. You really do just need to remember that this war is not going to last forever. Once it’s done, then Lorca will stick out like a Vulcan at a party and we’ll get a sane captain.”

“And for the time being, I just have to accept him?” Hugh asked, but the walk back and the routine of getting ready for bed had drained his anger away.

“Think about something else when you get annoyed.” Paul replied, giving Hugh advice as honestly as he could. “Just think about me, or think about making CMO. Think about the fact that your parents are calling soon, or what I’ve got planned for your birthday tomorrow. Think about what we might do for our tenth anniversary next month. Think about what goes in a standard medkit.” Paul reached out, pulling Hugh down into the bed. “I know that I’m often sarcastic with him, but that is me trying. He rules by making people scared, rather than through respect and that’s not the Starfleet way. He’s not going to last and eventually our life on Discovery will be perfect.”

“A little optimistic, especially for you.” Hugh laughed as he settled down.

“It’s nearly your birthday, so I’m making an effort this once.” Paul smirked as he cut the lights. “Now go to sleep and dream about me instead of him.”

\------

“Paul, this is not a healthy breakfast.” Hugh laughed as he looked at the tray Paul had slid onto the table. 

Paul dropped a kiss onto his head as he sat down opposite, a grin upon his face. “In terms of mental health, it’s a very healthy breakfast to have on your birthday.” He said as sagely as he could, but Hugh’s burst of laughter ruined his attempt to hold a straight face. “Well, there is fruit in there so it is kind of healthy.”

“Not drowning in chocolate!” he chuckled, reaching for a fork anyway; chocolate was his favourite guilty pleasure. 

Paul refrained from saying anything as he poured them both coffee, but he already looked like a weight had been lifted from him after just one night away from Discovery, the stresses of work and Lorca. That alone was better than any birthday present he could receive. 

“I should have got you up earlier.” Paul sighed as his eyes skimmed over Hugh’s bare chest. “Did you see the bathtub we have in here?”

“No. We have a bathtub?” Hugh hadn’t noticed one yesterday, but their rooms weren’t large and he’d just wanted to sleep so he hadn’t thought to go looking.

Paul nodded, sipping his coffee and leaning back. “Yeah. It’s separate though, which’ll be why you didn’t spot it when we got ready for bed last night.”

“So you can shower while I laze around in the bath?” Hugh asked, smiling broadly as he watched Paul’s face.

His husband laughed happily, “I think you’ll be surprised by how big it is. We can share and you don’t have to touch me if you don’t want to.”

“Now why would I want that?” Hugh asked, dropping his voice and shifting slightly, his eyes on Paul’s lips as he bit into a piece of fruit. 

Paul groaned. “Your mom is about to call and we’re going to have to chat for a while because it’s been ages since we did more than write. Don’t do that to me.”

“What if I asked for a kiss? It is my birthday, after all.” Hugh asked, his eyes shining as he relaxed back in his chair. 

“Well, as it _is_ your birthday.” Paul responded, standing up and moving over. 

As his husband leaned in, Hugh pulled him down onto his lap. Ignoring the squawk of protest, Hugh pressed their lips together, trusting the sturdy material of the chair to hold them both up. Rubbing his tongue into Paul’s mouth, he could taste the chocolate that lingered; the notion shouldn’t have been as wonderful as it was, but it made him moan nonetheless. Sliding one hand into blonde hair and the other into the back of his husband’s pyjama pants, he enjoyed the to and fro of their kissing as arousal began to slowly build between them.

Unfortunately the chiming of the com made Paul pull back but he remained where he was for a moment, mouth reddened by their kissing and chest heaving. “It’s your parents.” He noted, before standing up. He glanced at the tenting in his clothing and grinned wryly. “Enjoy talking to them. I’m grabbing a shower.”

Hugh groaned loudly in response but didn’t actually object. He collected his shirt from the floor and sat himself down at the desk.

“Hey mom, dad.”

“My boy.” His mom was smiling a large, warm smile and beside her, his dad looked content. “Happy birthday, Hugh.”

“Thanks mom.” He looked them over, pleased to see that they both looked well. “How are you?”

As they chatted, the shower started up and not long after, he could hear Paul singing to himself; something he generally only did when he was relaxed and content to take a while in the shower. His mom was happy to fill any silences with what his sister and her family were up to, telling him that she was pregnant again and how he was going to have to get back to Earth at some point to see them all.

“You’re looking pleased.” His mom noted, as she stopped telling him about his niece’s first semester at school.

“We’re on shore leave.” He replied, stretching in his chair and leaning back. “We’ve got about a week to do as little as possible.”

“Oh that’s good to hear. Your last letter said everyone was getting a little tetchy.” She mused as his dad nodded.

He chuckled “I don’t think I used the word tetchy.” His dad got up, pottering out of view.

“It’s what you meant though.” She told him knowingly, and he couldn’t say otherwise. “Have you got any plans for your leave?”

“I think we’re going to try out a few different cuisines while we’re here.” He watched as Paul came out the washroom, a towel around his waist and his skin pink from the heat. “It’s really nice having hand-cooked food again.”

“Which Star-Base are you at?”

“88. It’s one of the big ones that was designed for shore leave, so there’s plenty to do here.” 

She nodded. “I don’t think we’ve been out that far since you were born.” Then she straightened up at looked at him critically. “Do you have any birthday plans then?”

“He does.” Called Paul, still out of the screen’s view as he began to get dressed. “But they’re a surprise. Being on a Star-Base actually gives me that option.”

“Is that Paul there?” His dad’s voice came, though he was still off Hugh’s screen. “You should see those fruits I’m growing now. You wouldn’t believe how big they are!” He sat back down next to his wife and handed her a drink.

“Why are you getting your uniform on?” Hugh asked with a frown before Paul could answer.

Paul gave him a gentle smile as, dressed in his uniform pants and shirt, he leaned down to be in view of the camera. “Sorry love, but I have to head over to the Discovery for a bit. I’ve got checks and experiments to sort out remember?” Hugh nodded, recalling Paul’s comments about it the day before. “Hey dad. Commander Parker wanted a chance to talk to you. They’ve not really gotten anywhere with their Andorian crop so he wants to know what you’re doing differently.”

“Ha.” His dad looked smug. “That’s not a problem. Tell him to leave a message and we can sort something out.”

“I’ll let him know. Sorry I can’t stay to chat.” He glanced down at Hugh. “Sorry. Should only be about an hour, if everything is going as expected.”

“That’s fine. Don’t speed it up too much if it’ll just annoy you later on.” He assured him, preferring Paul to be a little late but in a good mood than on time but sour.

He pressed a kiss to his cheek, waved at Hugh’s parents and hurried out the door. 

“I thought you were on leave.” His mom wondered, her eyes drifting back to Hugh’s.

The man shook his head. “He’s got a bunch of experiments going that can’t be stopped just because we’re on leave. Thankfully a few other officers have agreed to help out so he’s only got to check once a day.”

“Any idea what he has planned for later on?” She asked curiously.

He smiled, honestly not caring what they did so long as they were together. “Nothing too much, I don’t think. Work’s been pretty busy so the chance to unwind is appreciated.” He shrugged slightly. “I’m not entirely sure what he’s found on base, but I’ll not check what I can find just yet. I don’t want to know ahead of time.”

They chatted for a while longer and she enjoyed hearing that Paul had a few cadets he was working with; Wells in engineering and Tilly with the spores, but she wasn’t cleared to know about the research they were doing, so he was limited in what he could tell her.

Eventually, she had to get going and after promising that she would get his sister to call, she ended the call. With still at least half an hour until Paul would be back, Hugh stretched out on the sofa, picked up his PADD and opened a novel to read.

\------

“Why didn’t we bring any nice clothing?” Paul’s complaint could be heard through the doorway as Hugh shaved in the washroom.

“Where are we going and how nicely do we need to dress?” Hugh asked, running a hand along his jaw.

“Not telling you and I guess our uniforms will do.” Paul leaned against the doorway, watching Hugh’s reflection. “Most people around the place are Starfleet anyway.”

Hugh grinned as he stepped back and turned around. “Well, you do make your uniform look good.” He took Paul’s hand. “How long until we need to go?”

“Five minutes ago.” He replied as he rubbed a hand over his doctor’s shoulder. “But we’re not late just yet.”

Hugh pulled a face and moved passed him. While he himself didn’t worry about being late as much as Paul did, he really didn’t want to ruin his husband’s plans by taking too long. They’d already been out to dinner in a quiet section, tucked away in a corner of the food court where they’d eaten some alien cuisine that had been a startlingly delicious mixture of sweet and savoury, before heading back to take a long, hot bath together. And now they were warm, happy, dressed in a uniform that was comfortable and off out again.

“We’ve not been this way yet.” He noted as they walked through the network of corridors, hand in hand as they were still off duty. 

“Just wait.” Laughed Paul as he tugged him over to an elevator. “You’ll enjoy it. Deck seven, section thirteen.” 

“Really? You’re giving exact co-ordinates instead of the deck name?”

“Yes, I am.” 

“Fine. I’ll wait.” He chuckled. Paul absolutely had a romantic streak, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

As they walked, they came across an array of people; some in long dresses, others in suits and a few in their Starfleet uniforms. Soon enough, he could hear classical music playing gently in the background and they stepped in a reception room. On the wall monitors were posters for different shows.

“Paul! You brought me to the theatre?” He turned to look at his husband with a broad, pleased smile on his face.

Paul was pink. “Yeah. Well, apparently there is a group touring who are really good.” He pointed to a poster and Hugh stepped over to it.

“HMS Pinafore. The lass that loved a sailor.”

“It’s an opera so I’m hoping you’ll like it.” Paul rubbed a hand over the back of his neck before stepping closer to Hugh and dropping his volume slightly. “And it’s in English, so hopefully I’ll be able to follow what’s going on without getting bored.”

Hugh pulled him in for a kiss, unable to stop grinning. “I can’t believe you’re going to sit through an opera with me.”

Paul rested his hands on Hugh’s sides, smiling himself. “I’m planning to be here both physically and mentally.”

“First English opera, then on to more traditional ones.”

“Let’s try getting through this first.”

They headed over to the bar to order a drink that contained actual alcohol, which couldn’t be ordered from the replicators. Hugh sighed in delight as he tasted the first beer he’d had in more than half a year. “Are we allowed drinks in our seats?” he asked. 

“Yes sir.” The bartender replied as he handed Paul a glass of wine. 

“Thank you.” He took his husband’s hand again. “Where do we need to be then?”

“This way.” He headed to the seating display and swiped his ID chip. “This door and up a flight of stairs.” 

“Stairs? They are going for a traditional look.” And this assessment was only confirmed when he realised the floor through their door and into the rest of the theatre was carpeted.

Their seats were at the back of a small box, but the others were empty.

As they sat down, Hugh leaned over to kiss Paul’s cheek. “Thank you.” He whispered. “This is perfect.”

Even so, they were less than half an hour into the first act when he felt his husband’s head drop onto his shoulder. Glancing down, he could see that even the ability to understand the words hadn’t been enough to keep Paul awake. Chuckling to himself, he shifted enough to wrap an arm around him before returned to watch the performance. He didn’t mind. It was still perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I planned.  
> Next chapter will be starting on events in and around episode 1x03. I'm thinking of adding an extra pov at the end for one of the other characters, though who I'll explore for each episode isn't something I've decided yet.  
> I've tried using American words, despite my inability to think of pants as anything other than underwear. Hopefully I got them all to sound right.


	4. Chapter 4

“Honey? Are you ever getting up?” The question was softened with a kiss, but Paul grunted unhappily in response anyway. 

“Am I late?” He asked, mentally preparing himself to open his eyes.

“As today was your morning off, no.” A warm hand tried to comb his hair into order. “But you need to be getting up now to eat before starting your shift.”

“I want to take shore leave again.” He grumbled, finally prising his eyes wide enough to see the handsome face above him. “I enjoyed it.”

Hugh laughed, his eyes crinkling pleasantly as he pulled the bedding back. “I’m not sure Captain Lorca would agree to having leave again so soon.”

Yawning, Paul flopped onto his back. “Did he take shore leave? What does he even find fun?” He wondered aloud, as his mind refused to focus on getting up and ready yet.

“Lorca? Maybe he plays battle simulations and bullies new people?” Hugh suggested as he allowed Paul to pull him down onto the bed. “Maybe he plays immersion video games? Or maybe he goes clubbing and gets laid!”

“Changed my mind!” Paul groaned as he sat up and pushed a pillow into Hugh’s face to make him stop talking. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Hugh was laughing as he rolled them over, straddling Paul’s hips and throwing the pillow onto the floor. “You’re the one who brought it up.” He pointed out, struggling to quell his chuckles.

“And I now regret it!” Paul assured him, trying to pull off a grimace through his own laughter. “Is your shift over already?” He asked, noticing the uniform Hugh was already in.

“It’s my lunch break, but I thought I’d come wake you up before your alarm.” He smirked as Paul wriggled underneath him, trying to get up. “You know I like to make sure you’ve eaten.” He leaned down on his forearms to kiss Paul, deepening it for just a moment before getting up. “Come on.” He pulled Paul out of bed and pushed him into the washroom. “I’ve got long lunch so you have time for a quick shower before we go eat.”

“You’re so generous.” He grouched as he began to strip. “Computer? Cancel alarm.”

Hugh made the bed as Paul got himself sorted before they headed over to the mess hall, the scientist still yawning as he ambled along beside his husband.

“Where is everyone?” He asked as they sat at a table. The mess wasn’t as busy as it usually was over lunch.

“It’s not 1200 yet.” Hugh replied with a shrug as he put his PADD on the table and opened up the display. “But I know you prefer to eat when it’s quieter so we got here a little early.”

“Thanks.” Paul smiled at him before turning his attention to his own PADD. Collins had had an idea about increasing the efficiency of their buffers for if the Spore Drive tried to overload the system again; his coding was typically very good but Paul liked to double check everything before making any changes, and for changing the workings of something as important as the buffers, he’d be triple checking everything before implementing it. It was more effort, but the easy route wasn’t worth the risk when it could damage vital systems.

They ate in mostly silence, with little more than a murmured word between them as they both worked; Hugh studying up on known viruses in their current region of space as Paul noted sections of Collins’ work that would need looking at.

Honestly, he was hoping this would work. When the spores interacted with the drive, there was always a burst of energy that the buffers had to deal with, likely just discharge from the mycelial network but he had been a little worried that bigger jumps would release more energy that they wouldn’t be able to deal with. However, if this worked as it was meant to, then it would be one less thing to worry about when they finally figured out how to get the whole thing working as intended. 

“I hate to say it as you’re working from here anyway, but you need to go do that in engineering or you’ll be late.” Paul looked up to see Hugh sat opposite him from across the empty table; he must have put their tray back already.

“This could be useful.” He informed the doctor as he stood up, most of his attention still on the PADD. “But it needs a bit of tweaking. I’m going to head down to Main Engineering rather than the labs to get this ironed out and hopefully set it up.”

“Okay.” Hugh smiled warmly at him as he paused at the elevator. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be back. I’m start at 0600 tomorrow so I plan to be in bed a little earlier.” He told Hugh as the doors opened. “I promise to remember to eat.”

“I’ll see you tonight then.” Hugh repeated as he stepped onto the lift and the doors slid shut. 

Heading over to engineering, Paul began to send Collins messages about what would need fixing. 

\------

The next morning, Paul left his husband sleeping peacefully in their bed as he headed for the cultivation bay. If he had to be up at such an unpleasant time, this honestly was the best place to be working, where he could see the spores drifting gently through the air as though there was a breeze. With the crop doing so well, the spores floating about and the faint humming Paul could always hear in the bay during the early hours of the morning, he felt himself relaxing.

He hadn’t actually gotten to bed as early as he had been planning, the work with Collins taking longer than expected to smooth out and implement; however it had gotten finished and he’d collapsed in bed beside Hugh, who had been waiting for him. It was done though, and they’d done two tests with the Spore Drive; one after dinner, which had shown them what hadn’t worked out, and then another one a little after 2300, to check everything was working. 

He headed over to check over the internal sensors, glancing over to logs to see that everything had been functioning as expected through the night. Next, he grabbed the tricorder from the cabinet and headed off to scan each of the plants; this particular job was a bit slower, but he insisted on it anyway, wanting to make sure that everything in his little forest was doing what it was supposed to. 

“You are still doing very well.” He murmured to one of them as he scanned the spores underneath the cap. There were a few handfuls of mushrooms that were thriving, which really seemed to suit the stricter conditions whereas several others were struggling, apparently far better suited to life in the wild. 

He slowly worked his way through the fungal crop, examining the ascus to see which spores were ready for harvest and which needed longer; not that he was worried about running out. Their interface could work for some time before he needed to worry about a shortage, but he liked to be careful anyway.

“You seem to be improving. Is it the extra moisture we’ve added over here, or the new compost?” he muttered, running a finger gently along the edge of a flared gill. Cadet Tilly had had an accident with the compost they developed on board the Discovery a while ago and most of it had been deemed unusable. While she had apologised endlessly, Paul didn’t mind too much; it was an important lesson to learn and one that hadn’t done any really damage to their crop; however they had had to buy some more compost at an alien Space Port. Now that their previous supply had diminished, they’d started to use the new compost and some species seemed to be reacting well to it. 

“The main difference is a slightly higher level of phosphorous, but I didn’t expect the change to be so dramatic.” He sighed, a warm smile on his face as he paused. “Computer, time?”

“0725.”

“Right. Best get harvesting.” He grabbed his PADD to update the logs, before checking the message he had.

‘ _Commander Saru to Lieutenant Stamets. Please be advised that Michael Burnham (rank stripped), graduate of Vulcan Science Academy, serving life sentence for mutiny (time served: six months, eight days) will be assigned to engineering for one week. Captain Lorca believes her logic-based approach will benefit the project_.’

He hummed unhappily, but brought the logs back up as he collected the spore containers. 

“Okay then, let’s get you into here and settled away.” 

The task was easy enough to do, a little repetitive but it was hard to mind when it was just him in here with his forest. He worked at a comfortable speed, noting which spores he was taking and how long until the next crop from those particular fungi was predicted to be ready. Within half an hour, he had the spare containers filled and put away; longer than usual, but with working out what they were doing with the buffers, they’d used more than double the typical amount. Then he changed the levels of UV-A and UV-C light in the far corner of the room, where more of the plants were struggling before collecting his final container and heading out.

As he went to return the container to its storage space, he noticed an unfamiliar woman staring at the reaction cube. “Who’re you?” He asked, unhappy that someone who didn’t belong in the engineering labs was hanging about.

“I’m Michael Burnham.” She replied, turning to face him. “I was assigned.”

To engineering? “Who gave you an assignment? I’m the only one who give assignments around here.” But taking a moment as he brushed spores off his shoulder, he did recall something about Lorca sending a convict with a _logic-based approach_ here for a week. “So you’re the one Lorca sent?”

“Yes.” 

“The mutineer?” he wondered if this woman was the one who had started the war with the Klingons; the very idea made it difficult to accept her presence. “I was told to expect a Vulcan.”

“There may be a misunderstanding.”

"On my part?"

“Yes.” She replied but hesitated slightly as he gave a puzzled glance towards her ears; it was the most human she’d looked since he’d entered the room. “No.”

Well, didn’t that clear everything up nicely? “You’re making this very complicated.” He complained, already wanting her gone.

“I was raised on Vulcan and I attended the Vulcan science academy.” Which did at least explain why she acted like a Vulcan, but she was still human so he wasn’t sure why her ability to use logic was going to be such a benefit in comparison to those already here.

“My Uncle Everett plays in a Beatles cover band, it hardly makes him John Lennon.”

She raised an eyebrow at his comment, as though unable to see the connotation. “I’m not sure I’m following.” Apparently she’d taught herself to think like a Vulcan too.

“Well, if Lorca thinks you are such an asset, reconcile these two suites of code.” He gave up trying to explain and sent her off to do busy work. It was just some coding that needed double checking before changes were made, but he had started it before Lieutenant Collins had sent him something far more interesting and so hadn’t finished it yet. “Go. Somewhere else please.” He added as she just stood there. “It’s not like we have assigned seats.”

To be fair to her, she turned to go work at the station beside Cadet Tilly in silence, bringing up lines of code and making a start. Instead, he focussed on analysing the results from their jumps yesterday; they had gotten further than before and had actually come out fairly near their planned destination, so he wondered if having the extra room in the buffers helped. It was hard to measure whether or not the ship suffered any recoil on a large scale when it was using the network to appear in a different part of space altogether. 

He pulled up the logs of their jumps from last week. They’d attempted a jump of a similar distance nine days ago, but had the distance between where they had wanted to go and where they had ended up been the same? In this case, no. Yesterday, they’d come out closer. A scan through told him that while they had made other jumps of a similar distance, they had been longer ago; therefore with the changes that got made to the Spore Drive on a regular basis as they tried to perfect the technology, there were too many variables for those to be used as an accurate comparison. The Discovery would have to make more jumps to see if the results stayed the same. He made notes for his report on his PADD, adding that he would contact Straal to see how their buffers were functioning, if they had made any improvements to them and so, what differences it had made. 

He sighed as he finished up his notes, deciding he’d start on a draft after lunch, to add it to the pile of other reports he had to give to Starfleet’s R&D department when Lorca decided to let them have some of it. It might have been nice to have other top-notch scientists to bounce ideas off, but Lorca claimed that the data was too important to send until it was all complete and ready to be used, so Paul had to continue with his own small team here, and with Straal and his team on the Glenn; not that their teams were bad, but there were only a small handful of astromycologists and the rest of them weren’t involved in this project. 

‘ _Lunch?_ ’ a message popped up on his PADD, causing Paul to check the time; 1326… he’d been focussed on his datawork for quite a while. 

‘On my way.’ He replied, standing up and stretching his back; he always meant to change positions when he was doing a lot of time at his station in the labs, but he always got so absorbed in what he was doing that he came out with back ache later on.

“Has everyone eaten?” He checked with Harrington as he stepped away.

“Except for her.” She nodded towards Burnham, who was still steadily working through the suites of code.

“See if Landry is going to come fetch her? She’s not eating in here.” There was no food in engineering and no drinks beyond the steps into the labs; he wasn’t going to make exceptions for her.

“Yes sir.” 

He nodded and left the labs, trudging along to the mess hall with his face still in his PADD as he brought up the main engineering reports that he hadn’t looked at yet today. In the mess, he quickly spotted Hugh in the corner, who grinned at him and pointed to the tray to let him know there was food for them both. 

“Hi.” Hugh smiled warmly at him as he dropped into the seat next to him. “So?” He looked expectantly at Paul, who looked up from his PADD, feeling puzzled. 

“So?”

“Michael Burnham!” He exclaimed as he picked up one of the sandwiches. “The mutineer who started the war! She’s been assigned to your department for the week.”

Paul pulled a bowl of egg-fried rice towards himself as he listened. “I know.” He pointed out. “I do notice when there are strangers in my lab.”

“Paul!” Hugh whinged, apparently after some kind of gossip. “What’s she like?”

“Quiet?” But he continued at Hugh’s frustrated huff. “She’s just gotten on with the work I gave her. She wasn’t some kind of wrathful, crazy warmonger and she wasn’t weeping with regret over all the deaths that she’s caused.” He shrugged. “She’s oddly logical for someone who isn’t a Vulcan.”

“You didn’t chat to her?” 

“No. Why would I? I don’t need to have a bedside manner.” He didn’t even chat to the people he liked apart from Hugh so it shouldn’t have been a surprise. 

Hugh sighed, turning his attention back to his own PADD. “I guess not. I am a bit surprised that Lorca’s letting her anywhere near the Spore Drive though, especially as he won’t let you talk to anyone off ship apart from those on the Glenn about it.”

“I think she served with Commander Saru.” Paul mused, trying to remember what he knew of her. “Maybe he vouched for her.”

“I’m still not convinced that he should have.” The doctor pointed out, eyes flicking up from his PADD briefly as he sipped from his cup.

“I’m not arguing with that, but it’s not as though I’m going to be chatting with her about it.” He groaned as he began to scroll through his own messages. “I think I’m going to have to spend the afternoon in Main Engineering.”

“When’s Straal calling?”

“1800. I’ll just work through reports after dinner, I guess.” His report on what had happened yesterday would have to wait, but he didn’t want to leave it until tomorrow; that would be too long. “When do you finish up?”

“Not until 2000 today, so even if you have a good chat with Straal, you should still be back first.” Hugh said, finishing off another sandwich. 

Paul nodded, knowing that he would be too tired at the end of his shift for a long meeting with his friend. “I’ll pick up some dinner for you so you can just come back.”

“Thanks.” Hugh smiled appreciatively. “Since we’ve not had any serious injuries in a while, the CMO is going to set me off on some simulations this afternoon.”

“So while I’m hard at work, you’re going to be playing immersion video games?” Paul joked dryly. “That hardly seems fair.”

“Remember to ask Straal how it’s going with Claire.” Hugh responded as he smirked. “You forgot last time but he was worried about how the long-distance thing was going to work.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk about it?” he asked, trying not to feel like a child attempting to avoid an unwanted task.

“Then he’ll tell you. He’s as blunt about his feelings as you are.” Hugh grinned before looked at his half-full bowl. “Now shut up and eat. You’ve still got a while before you get a chance to again.”

Smothering the urge to argue, Paul did as commanded. He hoped the bits that needed checking over in Main Engineering wouldn’t take too long; Collins generally did a good job of keeping everything in order and only sending Paul the reports that needed looking over, but there were certain sections that could only be worked on if the Chief Engineer was present, in particular bits that related to the warp core. As a science vessel, as opposed to a vessel of exploration, they didn’t tend to encounter as many unknown factors and often had the less experienced engineers working, especially on Discovery which hosted a number of cadets. It meant that the rules were stricter for who was present when working with the warp core, and even a junior grade Lieutenant such as Collins needed to be accompanied by the Chief Engineer in some areas.

“Is that her?” Hugh whispered suddenly, and Paul glanced up to see where he was looking.

With a straight back and a blank face, Michael Burnham sat near Commander Landry, stiffly eating as she was no doubt aware that the few people left in the mess were staring at her. “That’s her.” He confirmed, but turning back to his own food.

“I don’t know what I was expecting.” His husband mused before draining the rest of his drink. “I’ve got to be heading back.”

“I’ll take the tray.” He exchanged smiles with Hugh before the man nodded and hastened away, his speed indicating that he was later in leaving than he wanted to be.

Paul scowled at his PADD, but decided to head off to engineering, putting the tray away and heading off to work.

The afternoon went as planned, with Paul managing to get through it without having to tell anyone off so he was in a good mood when he finally got the change to chat with Straal. His friend must have had a good day too, as he was more than happy to waste time on small talk to begin with.

“What do you have planned for your anniversary then?” His friend asked, smiling slightly.

Paul rolled his eyes. “Oh, I was thinking of doing our vows again. We could get the whole crew involved because I do love it when they gossip.”

“You say that as though you aren’t married to the worst gossip on the ship.” Straal laughed, still looking oddly carefree for all the work they’d both been doing recently. “Have you even told anyone on the Discovery that you’re married?”

“The Captain and the First Officer know, so does the CMO.”

“Anyone who doesn’t have access to the personal section of your files, I mean.” He interrupted.

Paul nodded. “A couple of people that I trust not to chatter about it.” He still wasn’t quite sure why he’d included Tilly in that group, but her interest and understanding of his research that endeared her to him.

“You haven’t got anything planned, have you?” Straal sounded far too amused about this.

He sighed and shook his head slowly. “I can’t think of anything. I’d suggest watching a digital data file of an opera, but he knows I hate them.” He smiled gently as he considered how thoughtful Hugh was. “He was happy with going to the opera for his birthday, but because anniversaries are about both of us, he’ll want to do something we both like.”

“Well, what do you both enjoy, apart from the obvious?” He pulled a face as he spoke. “And I walked in on you two enough times at the academy, I don’t need to hear how it’s still going for you, thanks.”

“You’re missing a real treat.” Paul laughed, before he regarded the question. “Honestly? We enjoy curling up together with a good story on each of our PADDs, a hot drink and a blanket.”

“You sound like my Grandma.” Straal laughed along with him as Paul went pink.

“It’s nice to know someone in your family has life figured out.” He paused for a moment before remembering his conversation at lunch. “How’s Claire?”

“Still with me.” Straal beamed, happiness flowing out of him. “Eight months now.”

Paul grinned in response. “Congratulations. That’s got to be a record!”

“I think the distance actually helps.” He shrugged, his lips still tugged into a smile. “It means I have time to think my words through when something annoys me, rather than just shouting in reaction.”

“Save your shouting for the Glenn then?”

“Not at the moment.” Straal looked decidedly smug. “What was Discovery’s interval?” he asked, moving them onto the topic of work.

“Last night? Speirein twelve.” It wasn’t an impressive jump, but it was more accurate than their other forays into double figures.

Straal was fighting a smirk, which was always suspicious. “Why so conservative? Is Lorca holding you back?”

“No. He’s always pushing us for more. I’m sure that our rate of progress is his life’s biggest disappointment.” Not that he ever tried to hide it. “And by the way, twelve is a perfectly robust number, Straal. Where’s the Glenn?”

“Speirein two-forty.” Which explained his expression.

“I hate you. How?” 

“A recent breakthrough.”

“I hate you. How?” He repeated, even knowing that he didn’t generally share his own advancements with his friend until he’d worked out the more risky kinks. 

“All I can say is there are unexpected benefits to not growing your own. Right now we have to finish getting ready.” He looked excited about something. “Tonight we’re going for Speirein nine-hundred.”

The number didn’t quite click, sounding so big that it was nonsense. “That’s not possible.” Even if they had managed two hundred and forty, the thought of Straal trying a jump that big when Paul wasn’t there to check his working out was unnerving.

“Don’t be like that. You’re one of my oldest friends. We’ve been working on this for twelve years. When we succeed, both our names are going on the Zee-Magnees Prize.”

But Paul was shaking his head before Straal had finished. “I’m not jealous, oddly. I’m worried. That displacement is too massive. It’s not safe.” Especially as Straal had a tendency to cut corners where he could; Paul really hoped the team on the Glenn had studied whatever this breakthrough was from every possible angle.

“It is now, I worked out the kinks.” Which was an unpleasant thing to hear as it meant he had likely used the Drive with the kinks to actually discover them. “Lurker.” Straal warned him, disconnecting their call early so that he didn’t have to hear Paul have a go at the eavesdropper.

“I despise lurkers.” He informed Burnham, turning to scowl at her.

“I’m struggling with these equations.” She didn’t make excuses at least. He accepted her work and brought it up before them. “Initially I thought I was dealing with quantum astrophysics, but as I got deeper in, biochemistry came into play, maybe even a form of gene expression. It’d be helpful to know what I’m working on.”

She had to be joking. “Why would I tell a prisoner of the Federation who is essentially a temp, the details of my top secret research?” even if Lorca was granting her an odd number of liberties for someone who had knocked out her old captain and tried to stage a mutiny when she hadn’t gotten her own way.

“It’s your call.” She wasn’t glaring at him, but there was a definite Vulcan tinge to her expression that said she was dissatisfied with his answer. “But either way, this line here? It’s a mistake.” And there was the Vulcan superiority that she had apparently picked up in her time there.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes and point out that that was why they were double-checking each other’s work, he glanced at the data and dismissed her. “You can go, lurker.” He wasn’t walking her back to her quarters though.

He headed over to the breath scanner, planning to spend ten minutes or so in his bay to clear his mind which was still focussed on the size of the jump that Straal was going to be trying. “Submit breath scan for entry… Lieutenant Paul Stamets.”

It was only 1825, so he’d have time for a shower before he went and got some food for himself and Hugh.

\------

An hour and a half later, and Paul was sat staring intently at the door. He hadn’t been able to forget about Straal at all, and had only managed in getting himself more anxious; eyes hazy as the end of his mild panic attack faded, he kept watching for his husband.

“Paul? What’s happened?” The first words out of Hugh’s mouth as he stepped back in ten minutes later tumbled out as he spotted Paul on the sofa, fingers clenched in his messy hair.

He shook his head, stomach still queasy as he accepted Hugh’s embrace and pulled the man down on top of him. With his husband’s weight pressing into him, Paul finally felt the clench in his chest loosen up. “Straal’s being an idiot.” He huffed, shutting his eyes and relaxing.

“Straal usually is.” Hugh hummed as he ran his own fingers through Paul’s hair, trying to neaten it up. 

“He’s trying a jump that I don’t think is safe.” He explained, better able to get his words out in Hugh’s presence. 

“When?” Hugh asked, shifting to the side so he was settled beside the other man.

“I’m not sure. Sometime during the night, maybe early morning by the time they’ve gotten ready.” He felt sick again just thinking about it. “I hope it’s morning by the time they’ve tripled checked everything.”

“I’m sure with something like this, Straal has taken every precaution.” 

“I’m not.” His lips twisted wryly. “I think he’ll get carried away with his recent successes and won’t think it through properly.” He sighed, giving Hugh’s hand a squeeze and sitting back. “Hungry?”

“No.” Hugh smiled sadly and reached for the tray anyway. “But I insist we eat all the same. I’m guessing you haven’t bothered yet.”

“Dinner, bed and an early start so I can send Straal a message in the morning.”

\------

The next morning, Paul sent a message to Straal; just a text one but he needed to send something. He’d had a night of worst-case scenarios drifting through his mind and so hadn’t really slept.

In the labs, he looked over a report that Tilly had filled out. She was getting better at these, but he was beginning to think he should give her a word count so she could narrow them down to what needed to be said. Calling her over, he began to discuss it with her, pointing out where she had repeated herself and bits that didn’t need including in this particular report at all.

They glanced up as the doors into the engineering labs opened and both the Captain and the First Officer stepped in. “During the last hour, while performing black alert manoeuvres, there was an… incident with our sister ship, the USS Glenn.” Lorca informed them and Paul’s breath caught in his chest. “The entire crew was lost.”

There was a moment of silence as Paul tried to find his voice, aware that everyone had glanced over at him. “What happened? Was it a… bloom failure?” The Glenn had some differences in the samples they carried in dry store, which the Discovery was unable to grow on board; all their mushrooms were part of the prototaxites stellaviatori family, but they had slightly different properties and some were more unstable when used in the Spore Drive than others.

“We’re sending a boarding party to find out. Lieutenant Stamets, you’ll accompany Commander Landry and ensure that everything related to the project returns to this ship.” Lorca commanded, but Paul frowned. He didn’t want to go and see what had happened to his friend.

“Why not just transport what we need from the Glenn over to us?”

“The room holding the equipment is shielded.” Saru spoke up, hinting that he had been the one to try and spare Paul the pain of this trip; Lorca was likely too deep in his ‘at war’ mind set to care about his Chief Engineer’s feelings.

“Shielded? That’s curious.” He didn’t like it, and it made him regret more than ever the way they had been split up to aid this war. What had Straal been up to?

“Indeed.” Saru nodded and Lorca spoke up.

“Let’s not indulge that curiosity. It went down by Klingon territory. Let’s get in and get out.” The captain’s almost bored tone resonated badly through the Lieutenant and he bristled.

“Really?” This work did not need to be performed so close to the front lines. “We’re running drills near Klingon space.”

Lorca’s interruption was with a raised voice this time, his disinterested tone now decidedly irritated. “We are at war, Lieutenant. I’d appreciate a day going by without my having to remind you of that.”

He refrained from pointing out that a science vessel ought to be safely within federation territory, instead moving onto the next issue. “Well Captain, I will need to take a team with me. You know, for the cumbersome, annoying science part.”

“Pick a team. Do it quickly.” He stepped back, but then paused and glanced over at the women standing nearby. “Take Burnham with you.”

“Sir! It’s one thing to make her a data cruncher in my lab.” He objected, unable to see why the Captain wanted him to bring her. “But to integrate her into this project at such a deep level-” 

“I understand that you lost a friend today.” For a moment, he could actually see Lorca gritting his teeth. “But this is not a democracy, you understand?”

“Yes sir.” No sir, but this wasn’t getting them anywhere. 

“Number One, you served with Burnham aboard the Shenzhou. What is your assessment of her abilities?” He asked, and Paul felt as though his expression was just daring Saru to say something negative.

“Her mutiny aside…” Saru started tactfully, looking uncomfortably around at the people in the room. “She is the smartest Starfleet Officer I have ever known.”

“Huh.” Lorca turned to look at his Chief Engineer, face almost blank enough to hide his satisfaction. “And he knows you.” Then he turned at stormed out, leaving his XO to look apologetically about.

“Commander Landry will meet you in the Shuttle Bay to leave in one hour.” He stated, tapping his fingers off his palms for a moment. “Please take everything that we can use off the Glenn as we are not leaving her behind… but as quickly as you can so we aren’t spotted by any Klingon ships.”

“Yes sir.” He replied quietly. He wasn’t smarting at the idea that Burnham was more intelligent than him yet, thoughts of Straal and what might be over there too loud in his mind to let the insult take hold.

Saru nodded then left as well. In the silence, Paul stood staring at the door as he tried to collect his thoughts; unfortunately the dominant one was that he didn’t want to go there, but as it was unavoidable he moved over to pick up his PADD.

“Tilly, get one of the modified tricorders to bring with us. Hopefully it will work better for spotting correlation in patterns this time.” 

“I get to come?” She asked brightly, apparently not realising that they were going to be coming across the bodies of the crew over there. “I mean, yes sir.” She corrected as he glowered at her.

“I’ll take a regular one so hopefully we’ll be prepared.” They would be able to carry the data chips in their pockets, Landry would sort out any weapons and Burnham could… be there. He still wasn’t sure why she was coming along. “Head over to the Shuttle Bay then.”

The women left and Paul was alone in the bay. He looked at the empty reaction cube, wondering what Straal had changed to made to his; wondering if he wanted to see what had changed. But he shook the thoughts from his head, leaving the labs and heading towards the shuttle bay.

“There you are. You’ll need to put tactical gear on.” Landry said as he walked in, Tilly and Burnham weren’t visible, but he could hear the cadet chattering away so they were likely nearby. “Kowski’s changing through there.”

He nodded, turning and heading into the changing room to the left of the bay. However, it was as he held the change of clothing in his hands that he noticed the pain in his chest, the bitter ache and the building dread… He did not want to go over to the Glenn. 

But Lorca was in a bad enough mood as it was. As Chief Engineer and an expert on the Spore Drive, he had no way to refuse this mission. As he began to change, he tried to bolster his nerves. Life and death were natural things and Straal had always believed in God and life after death… perhaps he stood a chance of reaching something better.

“Paul?” A voice softly called behind him, and the scientist turned to see his husband hovering near the door. “Hi.”

He felt his chest lurch as he stared, wanting to curl into Hugh’s chest and cry; instead he gritted his teeth and whispered “Not yet.” The other man’s face was long, his eyes gentle but sympathetic as he watched Paul zip up the thicker jacket that was worn on missions which required body armour. 

“Okay.” Hugh nodded, stepping into the room and helping him pull his armour on. “Not yet.”

Kowski headed out to go see Landry as the doctor stroked his hand over Paul’s arm. The scientist stood still for a moment, aware that he needed to get moving but unwilling to part from the comfort that his husband’s presence brought. 

“I- I told him the displacement was too large.” He admitted, his voice choking as the words tumbled out. “I said it wasn’t safe but he never did like to listen.”

“Paul…” Hugh murmured, moving his hand up to cup his head. “I know, honey.”

“Th-they… If we hadn’t been split up… He always did get carried away with things if no one was there to tell him off.” Paul explained, though he knew Hugh was aware of this. 

He grabbed at Hugh’s hands, holding them as the other man whispered his name again, the pain evident in his voice.

“I don’t want to go over there. It’s our research that did this.” It was getting harder to breathe, his chest tight as though the armour hadn’t left him enough room.

“No.” Hugh replied instantly, and the conviction in his tone was something to cling to. “No. If you had been allowed to carry on your work at your own pace then this never would have happened. I know Starfleet didn’t force the Klingons to attack us, but they split you two up for this war.”

“They weren’t entirely wrong. We _have_ gotten further out in space than we would have in our lab.” Though he hated to admit it.

“The end doesn’t always justify the means though.” Hugh murmured, stepping close enough to lean their foreheads together. “Especially not when we haven’t even reached the end yet.” Hugh pulled back enough to glare at him. “Don’t you dare taken any stupid risks! If something isn’t safe then don’t even think about it.”

The thought of doing something like that was ridiculous, but Paul didn’t grin as he looked into his husband’s eyes. “The whole ship was lost.” He pointed out calmly, though the words tore a hole in his chest. “I may not be brilliant with myself, but I will fight tooth and nail with Lorca if he asks me to do something that might endanger you.”

“Not just me.” Hugh said softly.

Paul frowned slightly. “Or the ship? It does have my most up to date research on it.” 

“What I mean…” Hugh’s voices had taken on an icy tone. “Is that you are not invincible. I don’t want you trying stuff that might explode in your face.”

“Nothing’s exploded in months, at least not in my face.” The issues with the wrap core had caused an explosion by his leg and therefore didn’t count. “And I use a containment field when I need to.”

Hugh just scowled at him, and Paul gave in.

“I’ll be careful. I know I sometimes get carried away, but I have a team around me at the moment who all seem to be on the ‘safety first’ side of the fence.” It was a little annoying at times, but he tried not to complain.

“You need to get going.” Hugh sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before stepping back. 

“Before Landry comes and to get me.” He winced and moved away. Out of everyone on the ship, Landry had walked in on them kissing more than anyone else; her timing really was something else. “I’ll see you soon, dear doctor.”

“Take care.”

In the shuttle bay, Landry handed him a phaser without complaint, even though he was the last one there. Instead she stepped close to him and asked “Are you okay? I know you were friends with that guy on the Glenn.”

He startled slightly at her words, but nodded stiffly anyway. “Wonderful, thank you.” But he didn’t say anything else in case sarcastic turned to nasty. He’d told Hugh ‘not yet’ and he meant it. Lashing out wouldn’t help.

It was a phrase he was going to have to repeat to himself, he realised as he watched Tilly chatter away to Burnham; the woman who’d had a hand in starting the war that had eventually resulted in Straal’s death. She’d been a First Officer, so she probably hadn’t meant to get them locked into this conflict, but her actions had led to this. 

He turned and marched into their shuttle, dropping into the co-pilot seat and turned away from the others who were following him. Just this one mission; collect their gear, put it away then he could go shout and rant at Hugh, who would still be by his side at the end of it all. He could do this; he just needed to be left alone, inside his own little bubble of existence, with no unwanted interaction. 

“Everyone ready? Alright, pilot. Let’s go.” 

He was silent as they set off, eyes on space as he tried to ignore the woman behind him. 

“I can’t believe he picked me.” Tilly said quietly to Burnham from further back in the shuttle. “I mean, I’m the best theoretical engineer on this ship. It’s why I was fast-tracked at the academy but this is my very first boarding party. Kind of hard to believe, right?”

“Not really.” She replied, as Paul half-wondered at the cadet’s enthusiasm. 

They didn’t often go off-ship, but had she not been on a landing party yet? She may not thank him in the end. It wasn’t going to be pleasant. As she continued to babble away, Paul watched the arrival counter tick down; he felt sick again, as though this was all a fever dream and he’d wake soon to find Hugh beside him, his beautiful brown eyes filled with worry at the bizarre visions that were filling his head.

“We’re dropping out of warp.” The pilot announced far too soon, but Paul shoved his feelings back as he braced himself for the unknown. “Approaching the Glenn.”

“Disco One, confirm visual acquisition.” Came a voice from the com, but no one replied straight away as they all stared at the Glenn as she hung in space, a ghostly shadow without lights or activity. On the surface of the hull, he could see where the hyphae had been growing out on the actual surface of the ship; the expanding circle of mycelium forming what would have once been called a fairy ring.

“You see the etchings on the hull?” He pointed them out to Tilly, using it as an opportunity to learn rather than thinking about his own feelings. “That’s evidence of catastrophic basidiosac rupture.” In places they had actually breached the hull.

“Basidiosac? That’s an unfamiliar term.” Burnham spoke up, and he turned to scowl at her. He didn’t want her input; he didn’t want to remember she was there at all! This war was her fault and therefore she shared some blame in whatever accident had occurred on board the Glenn.

“You’re out of your depth here, non-Vulcan number cruncher.” He informed her as calmly as he could. “Seen and not heard, please.” Although, he wasn’t going to be watching her unless he had to.

But she was apparently unable to sit quietly. “Basidia refers to spore-producing structures. The numbers I’ve been analysing have been consistent with organic structures.” He clenched his jaw as she spoke, fighting down his need to start an argument, trying to keep his temper under control. “You mentioned the term ‘bloom’, that typically refers to biological-”

“Are you trying to show everyone how smart you are?” he asked, stopping her observations as he turned back to watch her. Did she feel a need to justify her presence on this boarding party by bragging about how she was so clever?

“I’m trying to get up to speed so that I can help with this mission.” But no quick recap was going to make her useful to him on this mission. She wasn’t one of the protective detail as she wasn’t allowed a weapon and even if she had a good understanding of science, as her background at the Vulcan Science Academy implied, he had no way of explaining the specifics of his project to her quickly enough for her to help once they got down to the labs. “In what is our problem based, biology or physics?”

And there was the problem he’d observed with Vulcan education; it was too rigid. “Are you really so naïve as to see them as different?” He questioned, wondering if her human nature would open her up to a more flexible approach. 

“Sir?”

“On the quantum level, there is no difference between biology and physics. No difference at all.” He held out his hands, trying to be clear. He didn’t like her, but if she was determined to understand he’d at least make sure she could avoid annoying him with questions. “And you talk about spores. What are they? They are the progenitors of panspermia. They are the building blocks of energy across the universe.” He felt a smile at his lips, lifting the fog of shock and misery for a moment as he explained the very basics of his work. “Physics and biology? No. Physics has biology.”

“All right.” She said softly, but he could see her trying to absorb what he was saying.

“I became an astromycologist because of the awe; awe at the miracle of life. I met Straal and we formed a partnership. We would get to the veins and muscles that hold our galaxies together. We would find truth.” Not that they had really gotten into it before he had come across a sample of prototaxites stellaviatori while he’d been working as an engineering officer on the Penzance. It hadn’t been more than a hobby before that. “We were happy in out lab, then your war started and Starfleet co-opted our research.” He couldn’t seem to stop talking, the need to let some of his pain out overpowering. “They split us up, put us in charge of two different teams so we could work twice as fast. Not for truth or to further Starfleet’s mission statement of diplomacy and exploration, but for war. And now my friend and his colleagues are dead because of our research and I have to live with that; but if you think I’m okay handing my life’s work over to that warmonger Lorca, you’re wrong.”

“Lieutenant Stamets, I sincerely have no idea what research you’re involved in.” She assured him, though she had been putting a fair effort into working it out. After all, she had exploited having Tilly as a roommate to gain access to the cultivation bay; as though he didn’t check who had accessed the labs to find why Tilly was in there at 0200. The captain had ordered him to delete the video file of her breaking in and forget about it; forgetting wasn’t something he could do, but he hadn’t wanted to upset Tilly by reminding her that her roommate was a criminal, as he would end up explaining how he knew. “I never even intended to be here.”

“Well, if Lorca wants you to be here.” He looked at her, feeling an almost inappropriate urge to laugh. “I’m afraid your intentions are less than moot.”

“Activating shuttle bay containment field override.” The pilot relayed to the Discovery as he eased them in, the silence that had been left behind almost deafening until he spoke up, but his words did nothing to ease the tension that had settled.

“Pilot, stay with the ship.” Landry instructed as she stood up, checking her weapon as she moved. 

“Affirmative.”

“Kowski, let’s move out.”

They headed out into the ship. The air was cooler, hinting at problems with the adaptive life support conditions that the Glenn was supposed to have, but it didn’t really matter. All the power was out, even emergency, but they’d brought torches along. 

“All the power relays and redundancies must be shot. Is that normal?” Landry asked, as they walked along. 

“Nothing’s normal after an accident like this.” He said, not quite unkindly though he couldn’t help the stress in his voice.

They walked in silence, pausing briefly to scan the fungal threads that had spread over the walls. Paul wondered if the ship’s life support system had adjusted to support the mushrooms instead, recalling how the original sample had been from a cooler setting. 

However, it wasn’t long until they came across bodies; twisted and mutilated in horrific ways and he had to shut his eyes, drawing a deep breath as he shuddered. “I never anticipated injuries like this. Cadet, scan to determine if the helical trauma to the body is related to the spiral markings on the ship’s hull.” Because he didn’t want to do an analysis through observation for this when they had a tricorder modified well enough to manage. 

“There’s correlation.” She confirmed, but once she’d gotten the data, she put her tricorder away again.

“Engineering is this way.”

As they stepped along, a noise behind them caused Burnham to flinch and spin around, her light moving over where they had been, but Paul kept his own on the floor, wanting to make sure he didn’t step on anyone who had been wandering about during a black alert.

And there were more than a few bodies, curled in on themselves and warped in what looked like agonising positions; he hoped they’d died instantly. A burst of electricity made them jump, but he couldn’t quite see what had caused it. 

Eyes still on the ground, Paul scowled as he spotted a bat’leth ahead of them. “Look.” He pointed it out, wondering if the crew had been attacked before a manoeuvre which had caused the problem. 

“Klingons.” Grouched Landry as she led the way, carefully taking in their surroundings to make sure they weren’t ambushed. 

“Could this mean that they know about the device?” Tilly asked softly, the fearful note in her voice letting Paul know she realised the seriousness of the idea.

He glanced back at her. “If they do, it’s all over.”

The cadet got her tricorder out again, scanning the area as they went; he let her do it, maybe viewing things through the tricorder screen was easier than actually seeing them, the sense of work dulling the horror.

But it was hard not to flinch as they spotted a lift door that had failed to shut, the walls surrounding it draped with bloody entrails which hung from the network of fungal threads that had ruptured through the walls; there was enough power still going through to allow the door to open and shut, trying to close on the remains of a leg.

The Klingon bodies here were twisted up like the Starfleet crew, but they had been ripped apart by something. Landry must have noticed this as she spoke up. “Why aren’t their bodies braided up?”

“Because they didn’t die in the initial accident.” He realised. “They probably boarded after spying a crippled Federation ship with no life signs. They beamed on to steal our tech.” and both the Glenn and the Discovery had a fair bit of experimental technology on board; from newer projects like the immersion rooms which could be used for combat or medical training to older ones like replicators, which had developed from food synthesisers and were now being used for producing clothing and small parts; none of it ready for general use in the Federation, but good enough to be integrated into the systems of a science ship.

“What the hell could do this to a dozen fully armed Klingons?” hissed Burnham, the tension of the situation evident in her voice.

Paul glanced about, noticing the walls in this section; not only were they covered in blood and plant matter, but the actual metal had been cut up. “Over here.” He stepped over for a closer look. “This hull is double-reinforced. What could tear through this metal?” but a loud noise pulled his attention away.

“You in the shadows, show yourself!” Tilly called out, her tricorder now on the floor as she armed her phaser. Kowski turned his weapon in the same direction and Landry did another visual sweep of the area.

A Klingon stepped forward, a finger to its lips as it hushed her. For a brief moment, it was honestly one of the strangest things Paul had ever seen.

“Is he shushing you?” Landry sounded utterly bemused as well, her weapon now trained on the Klingon. 

But a moment later, they saw why they needed to be quiet. Something pulled the Klingon back, and all of them realised that it had to be what had taken out the warriors. 

“Run!” exclaimed Burnham unnecessarily as they all moved.

“To engineering!” he yelled, setting off down the corridors that now resembled the Discovery in nothing more than layout. 

“Set phasers to kill!” yelled Landry as she fired back at the pursuing creature, but it didn’t seem to slow the thing down. “Kowski, no!” She yelled suddenly, and through the open door, Paul could see the security ensign getting pulled away by the thing.

His shrieks were cut off as the door to the engineering labs clunked shut. 

“What was that thing?” asked Burnham as they stepped into the room.

Paul had no answers for her though, instead wanting to get to work so they could leave. “Burnham, download the ship’s logs. Tilly, pull all telemetry and check the spore containment status.”

But just behind the cadet was a face he recognised, warped as it was. Straal… The reality shook him, and he crouched beside the body of his oldest friend. “Oh God… I’m sorry, my friend.” He didn’t want to see this, but for a moment it was impossible to look away.

The creature must have finished with Kowski, he realised in a detached kind of way, as it began thumping against the doors to get in. After what damage it had done to the metal of the ship in the corridor, it probably wouldn’t take too long.

“Log data’s corrupted.” Burnham noted as she tapped away at a station, continuing in her task despite the distractions.

“Sir, there’s some kind of navigational hack over here.” Tilly pointed out, as she scanned a device on Straal’s station. 

“Get what you’re getting please.” Landry hurried them.

Stepping around his friend, Paul pulled a storage box out. “This is coming with us. Help me get it off.” Together, they quickly disconnected it from the computer and as Paul worked on the fastenings that held it in place, Tilly stepped out with her tricorder again.

“There’s some kind of device in the reaction cube.” She noted as Paul placed the first device it the box.

“Well, we’ll take it with us.” He told her, pulling the box over to add the next device to it. He just pulled the cables out on this one with less care, helping Tilly to get it all in before he shut the box and they carried it over to the door, which Landry was trying to open with the blunt force of her weapon fire. “Can we go now please?”

“Not gonna burn through this in time.” Landry said as the creature visibly bashed into the other one.

Burnham suddenly moved, her eyes on the other end of the lab.

“What are you doing?” Tilly asked.

“One Federation ship is pretty much like another, I hope.” Paul watched her, not bothering to point out that it would only be familiar if she’d studied the Discovery’s schematics. “I need a phaser.” She checked something before turning back towards them.

Landry kept her attention on where her weapon was aimed, even as she replied “Mutineers don’t get phasers.”

“You won’t kill it.” Tilly said, unable to quell the fear in her voice.

“I’m not trying to kill it. I’m trying to piss it off.” She explained, and Paul decided that even a mutineer would want to live, so he took out his own, unused phaser and tossed it over to her.

As the creature broke through, she called out to it and fired, distracting the thing and running over to the Jeffries tubes.

“We’re through.” Landry pulled their attention back from where the creature was trying to co-ordinate itself well enough to fit through the small gap. “Move! Move! Move!”

And at her wave, Paul and Tilly hurried through with their storage box. None of them spoke as they moved towards the shuttle bay, going as quickly as they could with the heavy equipment. But other than stumbling over occasional bodies now that they no longer had enough lights to see where they were going, they didn’t encounter any problems.

“In you get.” Landry shouted as she stayed behind them. “Pilot, start the engines!”

“Wait!” cried Tilly. “We can’t leave yet.”

Paul dropped the box and ran to the com. “Burnham, we’re in the shuttle. What is your location?”

“Jeffries tube. Elevate the shuttle two hundred feet, rear quarter above the shield replacement units. Open the top hatch.” She replied, and with a nod from Landry, the pilot followed her instructions.

They all took a seat as the shuttle moved, and moments later Burnham dropped through the hatch. “Go!” she yelled, and they left the Glenn behind.

The ride back was done it total silence, Tilly not needing to fill the gap in the conversation this time; Paul couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or not. 

As soon as they were back, he contacted Collins to sort out having someone put the new equipment away until he was ready to look at it, then headed back to his quarters.

“Commander Saru to Lieutenant Stamets.” The com panel chirped before he’d even gotten his boots off.

“Yes sir?” He knew he sounded exhausted, but he didn’t care.

“We will be… saying goodbye to the Glenn at 2000, if you wish to join us on the bridge for it.” Saru informed him.

Paul shook his head before speaking up. “No, thank you sir.” He just wanted to switch off now, to stop his mind from whirling. 

“Understood.” Saru hesitated for a moment, likely wondering if he ought to give words of comfort, but the kelpian simply ended the call there.

Paul showered quickly, not wanting to slow down; but once he was dressed, he realised that he wasn’t yet ready to work on his report. He dropped to the sofa, his legs giving out as he stared at the PADD he had put on the table. 

Writing about what had happened, what he had seen… he couldn’t do that yet. It was useless to deny that Straal was dead, but he couldn’t face putting it down into an unfeeling, fact-based report yet.

He reached out and touched the PADD though, wondering how much data Burnham had managed to extract from the corrupted files… Straal had always done his reports orally. He really should find out what went wrong, or have a look at Tilly’s tricorder readings and see everything from the safety of his quarters. Maybe it would be better to record a message for Straal’s dad? He’d met the man quite a few times over the years and he’d be heart-broken to hear about this from Starfleet… but he wasn’t sure what he could say, or what the official story would be.

Fingers clenching around the PADD, even though the screen was still blank, he stared at nothing at all. His breath was shorter, he noted, his mind trying to analyse what was happening physically, shying away from the emotional pain that was beginning to bubble over. His eyes were blurred and his skin was probably a horribly, blotchy red. He could feel the tears falling down his burning cheeks as his head was filled with the loud ringing that usually accompanied a migraine. 

The door to their quarters opened, but Paul didn’t need to look up to know it was Hugh. He’d recognise the feel of those arms anywhere. His husband didn’t speak, but simply held him through the moment. He almost wanted to speak, to explain himself to Hugh, but it was kind of a relief to know that he didn’t need to. 

“You kind of stink.” He croaked eventually, pulling away enough to attempt a smile.

“I know.” Hugh winced slightly, but shifted a little to pull out his tricorder and scan him, the familiar gesture almost a comfort. “I’ll get you a hypo for that headache and then I want you to drink something before to go to sleep. Okay?”

He nodded slowly, tipping his head as Hugh gave him the medicine then staggering over to get a drink. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was, but he forced himself to sip it as Hugh stripped off and headed to the shower.

He just wanted to sleep. As though going to sleep would wake him up from this reality. As though it was a nightmare that could just be forgotten. He lay on the bed and shut his eyes, waiting for Hugh to join him.

But the sound of the com panel pulled Paul from his hazy rest, the incessant buzzing impossible to ignore. A glance at the caller ID told him it was a video call from Earth, so he scrubbed a hand through his hair and sat on the sofa to answer.

“Uncle Paul!” yelled the little girl as soon as it connected. 

He smiled softly as he saw her brilliant grin, which was impossible not to reciprocate in some form. “Hey Gracie. Hey Anna, where’s Berko?” It wasn’t often Hugh’s sister called, but she usually had her husband with her as well as her daughter. 

“Dad’s at work!” Grace complained, pulling a face to let him know just how boring her dad’s work was.

“He’s on a training course.” Anna laughed, flicking playfully at her daughter’s ear. “It’s a bit like school.” She stage whispered, smiling as Grace suddenly gasped.

“I’ve started at my school, Uncle Paul.”

“What’s it like?” He asked, relaxing as the girl’s rambling took his mind away from his grief. It wasn’t anything difficult and he didn’t need to do anything more than say a few words now and again, but her chattering was wonderful to hear. 

Eventually, Hugh came and sat beside him, smelling far fresher than he had before and he did a far better job of engaging his niece in conversation. Listening to his family talking away, Paul managed to fall asleep without focussing on everything that had happened that day.

\------

LANDRY-VISION

“Well? Was she as good as her record said she once was?”

“She was useful, in the end. She must’ve studied the layout of Discovery’s Jeffries tubes already which meant she could distract that creature and get away.”

Lorca raised his brow as he leaned against the desk in his ready room. “Creature? Is that what killed the crew?”

Ellen shook her head. “I’m not sure what happened to them. Their bodies were twisted up like… I don’t know. Their jaws were half a foot away from their noses but still attached to their bodies. I’ve never seen anything like it.” And she never wanted to again. “This creature was something else though.”

“Go from the start.” He instructed, and she took a moment to pull her thoughts together. She hadn’t really explained anything yet.

“Lieutenant Stamets noticed that there were etchings on the hull of the Glenn.” She said, opting to leave out his rant; he’d been sent on a mission to investigate the death of a close friend so she wouldn’t hold the stress against him. She only knew that because Dr Culber had arrived while Stamets had been getting ready and informed her that one of the engineers on the Glenn, Ensign Straal, was an old, close friend of their Chief Engineer’s. “When we got on board, the power was out and the bodies were…”

“Deformed.” He said, a little coldly, but that was just her captain’s way.

“Yes sir. There were Klingon bodies on board, in full battle gear, but they were all dead.” 

“How?” he stepped out from behind his desk to stand beside her. “Twisted up too?”

“No sir.” She stated. “These had been ripped apart by that creature. It had torn holes in the metal of the ship too.”

“Really?” He turned to look out at the Glenn, as though he could assess the creature from here.

“Yes sir.”

“I want to have a look at that thing.” 

“We’ll need somewhere to store it. Its claws are stronger than anything I’ve ever encountered.” She pointed out, but the captain was turning back to her.

“I know just the place. My private research room has a containment pen. It’s metal, but the shielding can be adapted to cover any weaknesses it might make.”

“I’ll go get that sorted, sir.”

“Thank you, Commander.” He dismissed her, and she headed off to the transporter room. 

Some called him a harsh captain, unfeeling and heartless after what had happened to the Buran, but she didn’t care. It had reshaped who he was perhaps, but now he was focussed on winning this war and he was willing to do whatever was needed to accomplish that task. Lieutenant Stamets had called him a warmonger and she’d heard others complaining about his desire to fight, but she didn’t care. 

He was her Captain and she believed that his drive and sharp-thinking would help them win this war.

He had her loyalty.


	5. Chapter 5

Hugh woke in a comfortable haze, waking before his alarm for once. He smiled sleepily into his pillow as he allowed his mind to slowly drift towards functioning. Nearby, he could hear Paul tapping away on his PADD, the occasional hissed breaths letting him know that things weren’t going as planned for his husband.

“Time’s it?” He asked softly, lifting a hand to rub at the dried drool on his face as he rolled onto his back. 

“Huh?” Paul sounded like he’d been lost in his work again. “Oh, 1121.” 

Hugh’s eyes shot open as he sat up quickly. “Really?” He yelped in surprise, grabbing his own PADD to double check. “My alarm is set for 1030, why didn’t it go off?”

“It did.” Paul replied with a shrug. “But you slept through it so I turned it off. Your shift isn’t for another few hours anyway.”

“I feel like I’ve wasted the morning.” He moaned unhappily, pressing his hands to his face as he realised his morning workout would have to be skipped.

Paul’s voice was tense this time, an edge to it that Hugh didn’t expect. “Well, sorry but I assumed you needed the sleep. And I couldn’t work through the noise of it.”

“Paul? Honey, it’s fine.” He assured, throwing of the covers and standing up, but Paul was already zipping up his jacket and heading to the door.

“I’ve got to get to engineering. I was just waiting in case you needed waking up before lunch.”

“Honey.” Hugh grabbed his arm, but Paul glowered at him, pulling away. However, the doctor caught sight of the bags under his husband’s eyes and the placating tone was dropped in favour of a sterner one. “Paul, did you sleep last night?”

“We’ve got a lot to do.” But the scientist sighed and relaxed as Hugh stepped forward and pulled him into a gentle hug. 

“Lorca?” Hugh asked, already knowing the source of Paul’s stress.

“I’ve already had several messages off him asking how the integration of the tech from the Glenn is going.” The blond grunted unhappily as he pressed his face into Hugh’s neck. “But I’ve spent the past few nights trying to work out what went wrong with their last jump.” 

Hugh tightened his grip as he felt Paul finally return the embrace. “You aren’t doing that during your shifts?”

“No time.” There was a warm puff on his neck as the man sighed. “As soon as we have it set up, Lorca’s going to want to jump and I don’t want to have what…” But Paul’s voice faded away and he shuddered. “I won’t let what happened to them happen to us.”

Hugh had read the report on what had happened to the Glenn and his husband had tried to explain in halting words what he’d seen; the bodies had been twisted out due to an error with the Spore Drive. “You’ve worked the problem out?”

“I think so. But without knowing exactly how the tech works, I can’t say for sure.” He sounded exhausted, allowing his husband to take some of his weight as they held one another. “And we won’t get to test it if I get court-martialled for punching out Lorca.” He added, deadpan.

Hugh couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him. “Sorry.” He pulled back slightly to cup Paul’s head. “When do you start your shift?”

“1700 but I’m going to head there now. There really is too much to do to sit around right now.”

“You can eat brunch with me first.” Hugh told him, pulling away to go get ready. “You’re even grouchier than normal when you’re hungry.” 

But their meal ended up being short as Lorca interrupted them in the mess hall to ask Paul why he wasn’t working on the Spore Drive. Hugh made no attempt to hide his scowl from the captain as his husband stormed off to the engineering bay, leaving more than half his meal behind. 

\------

Starting his shift after lunch, Hugh set about examining the blood cultures from members of an away team that had been taken a month earlier, three of them had been sick on their return. Turns out two of them had picked up a mild virus from drinking the water on the planet, but it had ran its course and their blood now showed no abnormalities; Cadet Haley had a positive result for his and Hugh send the CMO a note before updating his files and taking a closer look at the culture. He must have picked up a form of blastomycosis while they had been walking through the forest. He’d give the man some antifungal medication for now and monitor the situation; with xenodiseases, the patient needed to be watched closely, so as well as messaging Haley, he messaged O’Neill as well, the man’s roommate. 

“So I just need to take this hypo every day?” Haley asked half an hour later, as he zipped his jacket back up.

“And come in for your bloods every seven days.” Hugh reminded both him and his roommate, hoping that telling both of them would ensure Haley remembered to turn up. “But you should find that the muscle ache and the fatigue start to clear up. You need to eat regular meals and the weight loss will sort itself out.” That one he wasn’t too worried about though, Haley’s weight had been fairly consistent until a month ago. 

“And that’s all?”

“If you have any new symptoms at all, even if it’s something where you aren’t sure if it counts and it was just the once, tell me. Xenodiseases sometimes react strangely in humans and our bodies haven’t evolved to fight these particular illnesses off. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” But Haley was smiling, apparently relieved that the problems he had been having were going to get sorted.

“Off you go then.”

The men left and Hugh went to the office to update his logs. After that, he began to slowly make his way through the next lot of cultures. There was only so much work to do on a starship, and while working through cultures wasn’t exactly an exciting job to do, it did at least make the time pass quickly.

Hugh didn’t look up again until after the Black Alert announcement, when the ship jumped and then everything lurched. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, heading out of the office then stumbling into Harris as the ship shuddered again.

“Caught in a gravity well, according to Bryce. I messaged the bridge.” Harris gave him a wry smile as he straightened up. “Apparently we were trying to jump to a mining system that’s under attack by Klingons.” 

“And here I was having a quiet day.” He grumbled, but the smile kept fighting to be seen.

He headed over to a screen to read up on what was going on. Corvan Two… he’d never heard of it personally, but he’d never had an interest in stellar cartography. He stood reading about it until he heard the bay doors open and saw his husband walking in, a cloth held to his face which was bloodied.

“Paul?” Hugh’s jaw dropped and he hurried over, taking the cloth from him and dabbing up the blood as his husband sat on a bio-bed down while glowering. “What happened?”

“I hit my face.” He stated, though whether his bad mood stemmed from pain, hunger, stress or Lorca, the doctor didn’t actually know. 

Hugh grabbed a tricorder and began to scan the damage. “Shit.” He swore softly as he realised how close it had come to doing permanent damage. “Hold still for me.”

Swapping the tricorder for a knitter, Hugh began to repair the skull damage as Paul glanced up at him. “It was after we jumped and the ship got stuck in the gravity of the star.” He sighed, but that fact that he was talking to Hugh at all right now let the other man know that the temper was probably to do with Lorca. “I was leaning over the console and hit my face off it when we shuddered.” Paul shifted slightly, pulling back enough to wipe his face of most of the blood as Hugh grasped his shoulder and he moved onto the broken nose. 

“Hold still or you’ll wind up looking like a Tellarite.” He scolded as the scientist pulled away again. Having bones knitted back together was uncomfortable, but the patient really needed to hold still for the procedure otherwise the bones would be fixed into a position they weren’t meant to be in.

“How’s the patient, Doctor Culber?” Lorca had arrived, instantly bringing a scowl to Paul’s face as their captain approached them. 

Hugh stepped back, putting the instrument down. He could get a wipe for the rest of the blood on his husband’s face after Lorca had gone. “Well, I took care of the skull fractures first.” He replied in a calm, professional voice, without glowering at his least favourite person on the ship. “Another millimetre and the palatine bone would’ve pierced his cortex.”

“The frontal lobe is overrated. It only contains memory and emotional expression. It’s completely unnecessary.” 

“Well, I’ll save it.” Hugh answered, aware that the hurt was showing on his face but unable to keep it off; Paul’s attempts to hide his own feelings did occasionally manage to strike a blow at Hugh’s, even when the doctor knew it was their captain Paul was trying to shield himself from. “You know, just in case you might wanna have a feeling one day.”

“Gentlemen.” Lorca interrupted them, as though he wasn’t the source of their bitter feelings. “Every starship in the galaxy, Klingon and Federation, runs on dilithium crystals. If we can’t protect Corvan, the war is lost.” Hugh didn’t argue as he made a good point. Now was not the time for bickering. “So, can you fix the Lieutenant’s inability to get our ship to go where it’s supposed to go?”

“I warned you, Captain.” Paul defended himself, his voice mostly calm. “Time is an essential component of good science.”

“The Discovery is no longer a science vessel.” Lorca stated, though Hugh privately thought that their captain had never treated her as a science vessel anyway. “It’s a warship.”

“That is not the mission I signed on for.” Paul objected. “I’m not a soldier.”

“Well then get off.” Lorca said, his own bad temper coming to the fore as he didn’t instantly get his own way. “Leave the ship.”

“If I go, I’m taking everything with me; my spores, my drive.” Paul replied, as Hugh was stuck in the middle of the argument, feeling oddly helpless. The only way the two of them leaving would make a difference was if a large chunk of the crew came with them, and that wasn’t going to happen because those outside of the science division were bored of the slow, monotonous days that came with working on a science vessel. “This entire ship was designed around my scientific specialty.”

“Everything on this ship is the property of Starfleet, Lieutenant.” His tone and expression implying that they were included in that, the only problem being their irksome free will. “How do you want to be remembered in history? Alongside the Wright brothers, Elon Musk, Zefram Cochrane? Or as a failed fungus expert? A selfish little man who put the survival of his own ego before the lives of others.”

Up against the blunt manipulation, Hugh knew Paul’s first reaction would be to run away from the confrontation; so he wasn’t surprised when the scientist looked up at him and asked “Are you done?”

“Well, you have some blood on your face.” He said hesitantly, wanting to take Paul to the side to let him calm down. 

But Paul left as Lorca continued to hound him. “And your hands, Lieutenant. Get back to work, fix the problem.” Hugh stepped away, holding his hands behind his back to avoid doing anything rash to the man who wasn’t even subtle in his attempts to control the Chief Engineer. “Uh, computer. Open a ship wide hail.”

“ _WORKING. CONFIRMED. BROADCASTING SHIPWIDE_.” 

“Computer, play the audio transmissions from Corvan Two.”

The messages were awful, but they would be effective. Paul, as much as he pretended otherwise, had an active and fully functioning conscience; Hugh would be surprised if he left the lab before everything was working as it should and they could jump to save those people.

Lorca stood glowering at all the medics, though Hugh felt as though the scowl fixed on him more than anyone else; he wondered if the captain blamed him for Paul’s struggle with the Spore Drive. Under the cold gaze, he wanted to defend himself, to explain that Paul was still mourning his best friend and that working with the equipment that had led to his death was causing him terrible stress; that it wasn’t as though Hugh was holding him back, or that Paul had come here for emotional comfort rather than physical healing; that Paul wanted this bloody Spore Drive to work as much as anyone else, if not more but that he was right: good science took time. 

As Lorca turned to leave, an emergency transport came through and Hugh was only vaguely aware of him as Landry’s maimed form materialised with Burnham. He quickly set the main scanner going, but she wasn’t even twitching. His own adrenaline pumping as he tried to think of something to do, he depressed a hypo into her neck as the scan finished but it made no difference; she’d lost nearly forty percent of her blood and that wasn’t even the cause of death; the back of her skull was shattered, her neck was broken and her torso had been torn up badly. He glanced up to see Lorca and Burnham staring, but he shook his head. 

They both left a moment later and Harris pressed a warm hand to his arm as he passed, going to start final scans of Landry as Hugh went to alert the CMO. Landry… she’d just walked in on him and Paul again today as they’d gotten distracted on their way back from brunch. She’d walked into the room that was mainly used for routine internal scans and made a comment about always finding the doctor with his hands on Paul’s backside; it was the last time he had spoken to her, and he had to focus to ignore the twinge of guilt as he realised he wasn’t sure what exactly she had said to them.

With the message to Holden sent, he began to update the datawork, pulling up Harris’ scans to add them in. Beside him, he could hear Harris softly requesting a pod be prepared for Landry; she had wanted to be left to rest in space, rather than being taken back to Earth. However, once she was settled in the pod, it was up to the Captain and the CMO to send her off, which likely wouldn’t happen until they had reached some sort of conclusion with Corvan Two.

He sighed and went into the small office, dropping into a chair and pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache threatened. It was never pleasant to lose someone, but it had somehow never really clicked that they could lose someone he knew. He’d lost two patients during his career so far, but both of them had been on a planet and he hadn’t known them before they had arrived at the hospital. But Landry? While she was never someone he’d sat down and had a meal with, they had always been friendly enough; which was fortunate as she could have had himself and Paul in trouble for the number of unprofessional situations she had walked in on.

Thinking of Paul, Hugh recalled the man’s disinterest at the datawork they’d filled in after graduating, then updated at various points over the years. His husband had never planned to be on a warship, always requesting postings on science vessels that stayed away from the borders and for the most part, he’d been successful in that. He’d had Hugh as his emergency contact and healthcare proxy, but hadn’t had much interest in what would happen to his body after he died. They both opted to be returned to Earth, but the idea that they might die was suddenly far more realistic than it had ever been before. 

“You alright?” Holden had arrived, her expression gentle as she watched Hugh struggle mentally. 

He nodded, unable to get the words out and she gave him a smile before heading back out. He appreciated that he hadn’t been asked to leave and began to focus on finishing the datawork; it was better than sitting around with nothing to do. The only blessing was that she had died so quickly that there was absolutely nothing he could have done differently, simply because he hadn’t had the chance to do anything; a cold comfort at the moment, but at least he wouldn’t end up doubting himself. 

“It’s getting late, Culber.” Holden had popped her head back into the office what seemed like moments later. “Go eat.” 

He startled slightly to realise he’d been in here for nearly two hours. “Right.” Standing, he sent a message to Paul to see if he had eaten and headed off to the mess. 

There were only a few people in here, so he grabbed a tray and sat near a window. Paul still hadn’t sent a reply, but Hugh wasn’t really expecting one with the way Lorca had been; still, he knew that as Chief Engineer, the man didn’t allow food in any part of Engineering, but he hoped that today was an exception and they had been fed. It wasn’t likely, but he was trying to be optimistic. 

“ _BLACK ALERT. BLACK ALERT_.” The computer announced and two of the tables emptied as people left for their stations. Hugh remained where he was though, staring out the window as though he’d be able to recognise the mining planet on sight from here while slowly putting food into his mouth with little interest.

The veins and muscles of the galaxy… he could almost hear Paul’s words in his ear as he watched the threads appear for a moment outside the window, as they always did when they jumped along the network. But this time he was sure they had arrived at their destination, the flashes of weapon’s fire and explosions causing Hugh to sit up, the need to assist flooding his body as he acknowledged there would be injured people planet-side… injured people that they had listened to earlier in the day on the ship wide hail. 

But minutes later they had jumped again, though Hugh didn’t bother to ask the computer where they were. Finishing up his dinner, Hugh sighed and got to his feet; he only had two and a half hours to go and he could curl up and finish the novel he was reading. It was a romance story that had come out a few years earlier, but it had had good reviews and so far the storyline had been compelling so while Paul was finishing up in Engineering, not due to finish until 0000, then Hugh would relax before bed and finish this book. 

However, as he was finishing up healing Ensign Parker’s arm, a note went round the system to let everyone know there was going to be an informal drink for Commander Landry at 2100. As Parker scurried off, Russo leaned against the bio-bed. “You heading over there?” he tapped the screen, curiously.

“For a bit.” He would have time to eat before it started, but he wanted to relax before bed so wouldn’t stay too long. “Are you?”

“No. Have a drink for Ellen for me.” Hugh nodded sympathetically. Doctor Russo and Commander Landry had been friends, but the other man had only started his shift recently and so wouldn’t be getting out on time.

“How are you?” He asked softly, as sickbay was free of patients at the moment. 

Russo sighed and looked around, checking no one was listening. “Not great. I mean, not terrible.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “But it’ll probably hit me later. We have a games night once a week so…” he trailed off, but Hugh knew what he meant. Straal had only been gone a short while but Paul was struggling not having their meetings, with not sending messages… or worse, when he forgot long enough to send a message to Straal’s PADD, only to have the system inform him later on that his message wasn’t delivered; the PADD had been thrown at a wall more than once, but Hugh never asked if the display of violence had done anything; it would take time.

“If you need a shift covering when it does, then let me know. Okay?” Hugh pressed a hand to the man’s arm, who smiled weakly in response.

“Pollard said the same.” Then he sighed at picked his PADD up again. “At first she was so annoyed to be on a science vessel.”

Landry, he assumed, rather than Pollard. “Like most the non-scientists.” Hugh mused softly, pitching his voice to encourage the man to keep going. 

Russo snorted slightly. “Exactly. But she really warmed up to Lorca.” He looked sadly at Hugh. “I know you don’t like him, but she didn’t like spending her time watching out for a ship of ‘mushroom farmers’, her words not mine; she wanted to be doing more so getting posted here when we were at war…”

“She didn’t feel it was active enough.”

“She thought it was a waste of time at first. But Lorca won her over pretty quickly.” He sighed then headed off to check the instruments as Holden came back into the main area.

“Hey. We’re pretty quiet now so you can head off.” She gave him a slight smile. “I’ll see you on the Observation Deck if you’re still at this thing when I finish.”

“I think I’ll only be there a while.” He replied. “I want a bit of time to myself before Paul gets home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Hugh headed off, wondering how Paul had even gotten the Spore Drive to work properly. Had it been a fluke, or had he worked something out?

Opening up his personal messages, he saw he’d received a message from his husband nearly an hour ago. 

‘ _Not too sure when I’ll be back. Meeting Comm. Airiam at 2200 and will head back after that._ ’

‘ _I’m going to be going to this party for Landry but will be back before 2230._ ’

‘ _I’ll see you when I get in._ ’

Hugh was about to put his PADD away as he finally reached their quarters but changed his mind. ‘ _Did you get the Drive to work?_ ’

‘ _Finally, yes. Lorca brought that creature over from the Glenn that killed all the Klingons. It works as a supercomputer._ ’

‘ _That’s great._ ’ He sent back, though the truth of that statement was debatable. Lorca had brought over a creature that could rip through the hull of the ship? Really? That was nothing short of idiotic and even if it had worked out for the Spore Drive, the notion that Lorca had brought it over annoyed him anyway. 

On the other hand, he was glad that the Spore Drive was working. Hopefully Paul would stop rolling out of bed in the middle of the night to sit with his PADD and make notes on whatever had occurred to him in the dark. Maybe Paul would be able to work his shifts and actually get home on time. Maybe Lorca would stop breathing down his neck and his husband could decrease his stress levels.

A glance at the time and he pulled himself up to go shower with a tired sigh.

\------

DETMER-VISION

Kayla Detmer sighed as she looked around the Observation Deck. It was supposed to be a party for Commander Landry, but this was a sombre meeting of people who weren’t entirely sure what they were doing here. Most of them were scientists who hadn’t really encountered death and so didn’t quite know how to react and the others, such as herself, had survived the war so far to reach this stage and were numb to yet another death.

Except that wasn’t true and it wasn’t fair to the crew to pretend it was. The scientists hadn’t all lived in isolated labs before joining the Discovery and everyone who had been in battle was painfully aware of every life that been taken.

“I wonder who’ll be chief next.” Joann wondered gently as she handed Kayla a syntheholic cocktail. 

“Commander Gotthelf should be next.” The pilot pointed out, taking a sip of the fruity drink. She never could tell the difference between alcohol and synthehol but it was only on rare occasions that they got the real stuff.

Joann gave her a wry smile. “Should be, but that's not going to happen.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.” She answered with a grin.

“First point is easy. Lorca won’t even let him on the bridge.” This was truth. The Arkenite had a stubborn streak that had caused one too many arguments with the Captain and now he wasn’t allowed bridge duty.

“That’s true. But it could be worked around.”

“The second point is that he doesn’t like the Captain either.” Joann led Kayla over to a free table and they relaxed.

She fought back the grin. “I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t been demoted in the field for his conduct.” It really was bad that the man couldn’t respect their Captain; he’d called Lorca all sorts of names when he thought the other man was out of earshot and it was only luck that he kept him safe so far.

“And my final point is that even the scientists don’t trust him to keep them safe.” She slapped a hand to the table as she made her final statement with a nod.

“Really?” 

“As you’d know if you ever tried speaking to them.” Joann teased. “We’ve been here how long? And you’ve never bothered yet.” 

“Captain Lorca says that they’re pacifists who are barely worth the effort.”

“Girl, you have got to learn to think for yourself.” Joann laughed, her wide grin keeping Kayla from taking offence. “You really think this many people would join Starfleet if they were pacifists?”

“We’re not actually a military organisation.” She reminded her friend as she picked up her drink again.

“Even so, right from Archer and the Enterprise setting out from Earth a century ago, we’ve been battling people.” She shrugged. “Everyone knows we come across people to fight on a fairly regular basis; it’s why we have such a large security force, even on a science vessel.”

“Doesn’t mean we’d get along.” She explained, her eyes drifting around the room as people milled about.

“Another time, we’re going to get your some more friends.” Joann chuckled again as she smiled and waved at one of the medics. “People other than helmsmen and me that you can talk to without alcohol first.”

“I had loads of friends at the academy.” She groaned wistfully. “But those I was closest to all died on the Shenzhou.” And the thought of going out and making new friends was daunting when they were still at war and those new friends could die as well. 

“Doesn’t mean you should cut yourself off.” Joann replied gently, reaching over to rub her shoulder for a moment. 

“After the war.” She stated. “Then I’ll make an effort.” She owed it to those who had died in the Battle of the Binary Stars, to her friends who hadn’t survived like she had; she’d do all she could to stop the Klingons and then when that debt was paid, then she could get on with life.

Joann smiled at her, but thankfully made no comments about survivor’s guilt this time. “Even if you skip talking about war, you’ll be fine. Some of them are pretty cute.”

Kayla turned to see who Joann was looking at; for a moment she thought the woman was pointing out Doctor Culber, who was attractive but had never looked at her in anything but a professional way, even when she’d been aiming for friendly small talk, but then she noticed Ensign Logan from Engineering behind the doctor. She blushed and turned to glare at Joann, who was chuckling again.

“I know you like him.” She sang, her eyes bright as Kayla drained the rest of her drink. “Anyway, he’s an engineer, not a scientist. So you should be fine.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.” She stated as she stood up. “You having the same?”

“Please.”

She headed over to the replicator, giving Logan a wide berth as she made her way through the crowd. Tapping in her order, as the noise level here was now too loud for vocal orders, she looked around. She recognised faces; that guy always sat in the same corner of the mess with his face in an actual, paper book; that one worked in the ship’s archives and was usually singing opera loudly while on shift; the older lady there was married to Todd, one of the other pilots; those two there were a couple who seemed to break up at least once a week…

Maybe Joann was right. She was on this ship here and now, and yet she could only name a handful of people in this room; Joann, Logan, Culber, Wells, Peterson, Fischer, Molina, Wilson… that was it. The smile dropped off her face as she collected the drinks and made her way back over; on the Shenzhou, she’d known the names of most of the crew and had been able to recognise the rest on sight. She missed them with an ache that had dulled, but didn’t ever leave.

“Oof, sorry.” She apologised as she walked straight into someone.

“It’s fine. This is empty anyway.” The guy replied, waving his empty glass at her before heading off to the replicators; someone else she didn’t know the name of.

“What’s wrong?” Joann asked as she sat back down, but Kayla didn’t know how to answer; how could she explain the sudden loneliness that had taken over her when she was in a room full of strangers? They were a crew according to the datawork, but there didn’t seem to be the same camaraderie that had exists on the others ships she’d served on.

“Nothing.” She eventually answered in a soft voice as it occurred to her that the others seemed to be getting along just fine. Was she the problem? The odd one out that people spoke about in whispers as the only person who didn’t care to try and fit in?

Not that she didn’t hear gossip about those who didn’t care to join the crowd; Lieutenant Stamets being the best example, but even then she knew that people respected him and the cadets considered him to be a good tutor. 

“I guess I could try to make an effort.” She said after another silence. “Is this where people normally meet up after their shifts?”

“Nah.” Joann shook her head, but she was smiling. “I’ll show you tomorrow. There’s a games room that I’m guessing you haven’t spent any time in.”

She sighed, then braced herself. “Not yet, but I’m going to.” It felt like a big decision, especially as her evenings were usually spent studying tactics or practising battle simulations so that she would be effective in whatever battles Lorca needed her to fly them through; however, she knew them off by heart and one evening a week off couldn’t hurt. “I’m going to.” She whispered to herself, a small promise that she’d have to keep.


	6. Chapter 6

OWOSEKUN-VISION

“Captain? I’m detecting a distress beacon.” Lieutenant Bryce spoke up from his station behind Joann as she quietly worked through her own data.

“Let’s hear it.” Lorca replied but Bryce was already talking again.

“It’s not an audible transmission sir. There’s been a series of pulses repeating over and over; I think it’s artificial.”

Joann tapped at her console to bring up the data, quickly analysing the readings as Lorca told him to put the pulses on screen. 

“What am I looking at?”

“It’s in the centre, sir.” Bryce replied, and Joann stopped what she was doing to watch. “There.”

The pulsing lights were tiny but after a moment she could spot the pattern.

“Magnify.” 

“Yes sir.” Joann responded, obeying the command.

“Is it a call for help? I don’t want to go out of our way for someone having a party.” 

“I’m running it through the translator, sir.” Bryce informed him. “But unless it’s already in the databanks then we won’t be able to tell without context, sir.”

“Understood. Detmer, head towards it; warp two. Let’s get readings for if we’re about to come into a firefight.” 

“Yes sir.” Rang around the bridge and the monotonous day morphed into something of interest. 

Kayla sent her a grin as she manoeuvred the ship in the right direction and Joann returned it, pleased to finally have something to do. The Discovery was a science vessel, tasked with research and development rather than exploration; and as they were not on tasked with studying cosmic phenomena, they often had lulls in activity. The most excitement they generally got was waiting to see where the next jump dropped them and how close they were to where they wanted to be. 

Of course, now that the tardigrade had been linked up to the navigation system they were able to complete their jumps as desired… but Joann honestly missed the thrill of not knowing where they were going to end up. 

“Sir? I have a match.” Bryce called out and Joann thought she could hear a touch of relief in his voice. “It’s the Tramoakans. They’re having mechanical issues.”

“Tramoakans?” Lorca asked, but the species rang a bell in Joann’s mind. 

“Sir, aren’t they sending royalty over to discuss joining the Federation?” She asked, tapping at her console to bring up the relevant information. 

“So we have to be nice to them?” The Captain said and Joann fought back a grin; Lorca really wasn’t good at pandering to the whims of others. She hoped if it was royalty then he’d be able to resist insulting them.

“We’ve got communication sir.” Bryce spoke up. “But it’s text based only. Their main systems have been taken out, including their warp drive.”

“What happened?”

“Klingons. A number of the crew were killed, and most of them were engineers. They’re requesting we send someone over to help.” Bryce explained calmly. “And it is a Royal transport.”

“Who do we have that can fix a warp core? Did they mean just one person or a team?”

Joann skimmed quickly through her data for the answer, as she still have the information on this species in front of her. “If they said one person sir, then that’s what they meant. They don’t seem to have any understanding of hyperbole or large generalisations.”

“Great.” Lorca almost groaned, and she saw him step closer out the peripheral vision towards the view screen, where the damaged ship was hanging more like a ghostly ruin than a Royal cruiser. “Put together a file then for whoever gets sent over.”

“It’ll need to be Lieutenant Stamets, sir.” She pointed out as she began to organise the relevant data. “It would be an insult for us to send anyone but the Chief Engineer.”

“Right. Send Stamets a message then and let’s get this over and done with. Rhys? Keep an eye out. I want to know if those Klingons come back.”

“Yes sir.”

As they set to work, Joann noticed that the Tramoakans’ ship had a different atmosphere to their own. It looked like it would be fine for the Chief Engineer to work in, but she sent a message to Sickbay just in case. 

\------

“The atmosphere on their ship isn’t exactly the same as ours.” Hugh explained as Paul checked through his toolkit. “The gravity is higher than ours, so be careful.”

“I will. It doesn’t sound like it’s anything too problematic.”

“You can only spend twelve hours over there before we’ll send for you. If you’re not finished then you can go back tomorrow, but it’s going to be warm over there so make sure you drink enough. This should counteract the effects of the gravity for a while, but it only lasts nine hours or so.” He pressed a hypo to Paul’s neck before reaching out to take his hand. “The last three hours are really a matter of staying if you need to.”

“You’re not going to put a remote monitor on me?” He teased as he stepped closer.

“Not allowed.” Hugh said, looking a little apprehensive. “Apparently they don’t allow any foreign recording equipment on board.”

“Not even medical ones?” Paul asked as he pulled the doctor into his arms, wanting to eliminate the anxiety he seemed to be feeling; not that Paul was entirely confident about this trip, but he wasn’t going to worry Hugh more.

“No.” Hugh sighed, a warm puff of breath against the scientist’s collar as he tightened his embrace. “They seem strict about everything, even down to their everyday routines so be careful not to piss anyone off.”

“Hopefully I won’t have Royalty following me about and the people I do work with are a little more relaxed, but I’ll try to be nice.” He replied, unable to promise more than that. “I need to get going. Lorca already sent me a message saying to not waste time over there.”

“Bet he’s annoyed that you have to go help this ship rather than staying on this one and refining the Spore Drive.” Hugh grumbled as he stepped away, pressing a soft kiss to Pauls lip’s before smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

Paul smiled slightly as he stepped into the transporter room, nodding to Ensign Philips as he stepped onto the pad. “Energise.” He said, and a moment later, he knew he’d arrived.

The increase in gravity nearly took him off his feet and despite the fact that he’d been expecting it, the difference was surprising. Staggering for a moment, he then straightened up and stepped off the pad to bow low to the people before him; they were all shorter than him by several inches and decidedly stouter, each with brightly coloured hair piled on their heads which nearly made up the difference. The women, he recalled, were the ones with the vertical ridges down their cheekbones; the men had horizontal ones across their forehead and coming out from below their nose to their ears.

“Chief Engineer Stamets.” The woman behind the console spoke up. “This is Princess Ca’ntra.” She gestured to the woman with long pink hair in the billowing robes.

“We are pleased to make your acquaintance and regret that circumstances have called you away from your ship.”

There had been no notes about body language and facial expressions, but he returned the princess’s smile. “I hope to have your ship working again quickly.” He replied and allowed them to lead him through the corridors.

While they didn’t speak on the way, the trip was far from silent. All around was evidence of a serious attack; from the injured crew, to the flitting medics, to the flickering display at the wall consoles to the messages that were being relayed over the speakers: requests for crew members or medics or any surviving engineers.

“Why didn’t they kill you?” He asked one of the group they were travelling with, a man with deep blue hair and a brittle smile. “The Klingons, I mean.”

“We warped away.” He replied softly, his shoulder drooping. “Chief Engineer Tantak said it was risky but we went anyway. There was an explosion in the Engine Room and they died.”

Paul managed to avoid swearing as he realised there could be serious damage to the core. “I need to see the dilithium chamber first.” He informed them, tension setting into his body as he mentally acknowledged that there could be a core breach that the damaged systems wouldn’t pick up.

“It isn’t proper for you to work for our ship when you have not eaten here.” The princess stopped to tell him, but Paul was already shaking his head.

“Forgive the breach of etiquette, but it can’t wait.” Speaking nicely was hard when fear was trickling into his veins, not enough to make him panic yet but combined with the ache he was already feeling from their gravity, it was leaving him slightly woozy and with a headache that he already knew was going to reach epic proportions. “If there is a problem that your systems are too damaged to detect, then there could be another explosions. We can play nice once we’re safe.”

“We are not playing, Chief Engineer Stamets.” She told him, her voice slightly perplexed as Paul remembered they took everything literally. “But we acknowledge the risk and so shall eat with you once it has been eliminated.”

They quickly made their way to the dilithium chambers, one of the remaining engineers taking Paul through the carnage to the main consoles as the Princess and her attendants left them. 

The young man stared at him with wide eyes as they headed to the dilithium chamber, his purple hair flopping in his eyes as he looked up and Paul had a distinct sense of déjà vu that reminded him of when Cadets Tilly and Wells had first come across him. 

“Do you know how to check the injector seals?” He asked as he began to search through the console, his translator tied into his PADD to allow him to understand the words and symbols he was looking at.

“No Chief Engineer Stamets. I typically work on the upkeep and cleanliness of the machines.” 

The highest ranking engineer left alive was a cleaner? And one who barely looked old enough to be working at all? This wasn’t looking good. “Right. Do you know these systems at all?” 

“Some of the systems, but not these ones. I’ve never been in the chamber before.”

Of course not. “Let’s see if I can work it out then.” He muttered, tuning the boy out as he wasn’t going to be any use. “These are located… here.” The system so far seemed to be set out logically, and Paul honestly hoped the whole thing was. 

Grabbing his toolkit again, Paul headed over to the antiproton injector seals and began to scan them. Thankfully, with everything offline then he didn’t need to worry about accidently injuring himself on too much while he sorted things out. All the main power was out until the warp core was back up and running again anyway.

This sections seemed to be fine, so he headed through to check the antimatter chamber. “I think I’ll run some internal scans at the same time.” He decided, not wanting to miss even anything minor. “Bro’tak? Keep an eye on these and let me know if you spot anything abnormal.”

“Yes sir.”

“You do know what to look out for, right?”

“Yes sir.”

Paul hesitated for a moment, but decided that he’d have to trust him. Apparently he’d gone through their academy to qualify as an engineer and had done well enough to land a job on a Royal transport, but the idea that he was a cleaner was incredibly unnerving.

“There’s nothing wrong with your spin reversal system.” He noted, eyes glued to his display for a moment as he acknowledged that it may more efficient in generating antiprotons than the one on Discovery. “Now for the dilithium regulators.”

He stared at the spin reversal system for a moment longer, trying to take it all in before he clicked out of that section and into the next. He hummed softly as he read the output; the regulators weren’t damaged as such, but they weren’t perfect; it looked as though they had been in there a while and were reaching the end of their life. However, it wasn’t a problem yet so Paul left them along.

“You may want to keep an eye on the dilithium regulators.” He mentioned to Bro’tak, who startled from the display he’d been watching to stare at Paul for a long moment. “Shouldn’t need doing this trip, but they are going to need changing sooner rather than later.”

“Understood, Chief Engineer Stamets.” He pulled out a small PADD and tapped something into it. 

“Now, will that scan alert you when it’s done with the results or does it need someone in here to watch it?”

“It should alert us if there are any readings outside of normal parameters.”

“Then I want to check the electro-plasma system.”

“The controls for that are in main engineering.” The man pointed out, pushing his hair out of his face and scratching at his lower ridge. 

“Then lead the way.”

Paul’s day didn’t get any more interesting. They found that a number of systems had been fried by the EPS conduits and needed fixing so he taught Bro’tak how to do this and they worked slowly through the problems. 

Occasionally, he got the young engineer to refill his flask as the concentration required along with issues he was having with the whole atmosphere system on the ship was playing havoc with his stomach, and the cool water was refreshing. At one point, he ate a ration bar and send the lad off to eat while he obtained permission and then contacted the Discovery.

“What’s it like?” Asked Bryce quietly, likely trying to avoid being heard by Lorca.

“Hot.” He replied honestly. “And kind of difficult. Nearly all their engineers are dead and I’m working with a kid who doesn’t really know how the systems work.”

“Ouch. Estimated time until you’re done?”

“It won’t be today. I don’t think I’ll be finished fixing the EPS conduits until tomorrow then I still need to check the nacelles. With the damage we have here, I think it may have overloaded things there too.”

“Right. I’ll let the captain know.” And even Paul managed to pick up on the reluctance in his voice. “Also, Doctor Culber wanted to talk to you, if you have time.”

“Sure.” He nodded, even though Bryce couldn’t see him.

“Okay… There you go. Hope the rest of your repairs go well, Lieutenant.” Paul heard him tapping, then the background noise changed slightly as he was connected to a different com channel.

“Paul?” Hugh’s voice was a welcome sound and the man sighed as he heard it. “How you doing?”

“I’m tired.” He replied honestly. “It’s really warm and I ache all over.”

“I bet.” The doctor sounded sympathetic. “Your muscles will be getting an extra work out to carry your weight around over there?”

“Did you just call me fat?” he asked, a grin twitching at his lips.

Hugh laughed, his amusement forcing Paul’s smile fully out. “You know I have no objections to your weight.”

“I didn’t think I did till I got here.” He noted, but it was hard to actually complain when Hugh’s voice was lifting his spirits.

“How’s it going over there?”

“Slow. It’s definitely going to take another day.” 

“Only four hours till you come back for tonight though.” Hugh said softly, implying he was counting down.

“I can’t wait to lie down.” He murmured, closing his eyes for a moment as he imagined Hugh’s arms around him as they lay in bed with the temperature set low.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’ve had a ration bar, but I think I’d throw up if I tried anything else.” He admitted. “I’ve had plenty to drink though.”

“Good. Keep that up at least. You can cope with being a little hungry much better than with dehydration.”

“I know.”

“Any other problems?” 

“I’ve been dizzy once or twice while we’ve been crawling about then getting up again, but sitting and doing nothing for a while seems to have helped with that.”

“Just be careful, lieutenant and I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you later, Doctor.”

Disconnecting, Paul lay down in the service corridor and shut his eyes as he waited for Bro’tak to return. Then they’d work through the rest of these conduits and he could go home for a while.

\------

It was beyond a relief when Paul got to stagger off the transporter pad again and into Discovery’s familiar corridors. 

“Paul.” Hugh was hurrying over as soon as the door to their quarters opened and the engineer was more than happy to fall into his husband’s arms. “Did you remember to go to sickbay?”

“Yeah. Holden gave me two hypos, told me to have a drink and a shower and go to bed.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked as they took a moment to hold each other. “What are the Tramoakans like?”

Paul sighed and stepped back. “As a species I’m sure they’re fine, but the one I’m working with is annoying.”

Hugh followed him as he headed over to the washroom and began to strip off. “Because he isn’t a high-ranking engineer?” His tone was teasing, but Paul was too tired to respond in kind.

“Because he’s pedantic over the most pointless stuff.” He started up the shower, opting for water rather than sonic. “The EPS conduits are fiddly, but they aren’t too difficult to fix, but every time I went to check on him, he was cleaning stuff out.”

“I thought it was important to keep the innards of the ship clean?” Hugh looked slightly confused as Paul let out a groan as the hot water pounded his skin. “Were they that bad?”

“They could have waited. If he’d just got on with the work, then the EPS conduits would be finished and we could get a move on tomorrow.” It was only a slight exaggeration; even if Bro’tak had done what he was supposed to be doing, Paul suspected they would have still had to spend the morning finishing off. He tilted his head back to get his face wet, aware that Hugh was still watching but also aware that his husband was going to have him in bed for sleep as soon as he had had food and water.

“Is there a lot left to do?” the doctor asked curiously, but Paul was groaning unhappily before he’d even finished speaking.

“EPS conduits then up to check the nacelles, which I think will need work after the mess the conduits are in; internal sensors need double checking, as does life support. I might hunt out the specs for them to fix their own weapons as I’m not allowed to fix them myself, but they won’t be able to fight back if they get caught in a fight again right now. Their shields actually work with bio-engineering, so they should repair themselves, but I’ll check that over too.” He did want to see how that worked as that particular phase of engineering was experimental, but effective when it did work so it was only used for the shield. He had looked over the specs at one point, but hadn’t really had the time to study it in any detail; Starfleet didn’t have bio-engineering on their ships though, beyond what Paul was doing with the spores and the tardigrade so he wanted to look into their reports on how it had effected other systems and why it was only used for one function on the ship.

“Bio-engineering.” Hugh hummed softly, only just audible over the sound of the shower as Paul washed his hair. “I wonder how that works. We’ve managed to use implants on people without any issue for a while now but we’ve never managed to get the hang of biological-mechanical implants on anything organic.”

“Or on anything mechanical.” Paul reminded him. The technology just wasn’t developed enough yet, but he wasn’t surprised that Hugh was thinking about it; he had excelled at the bio-engineering course at the academy and had both designed and adapted numerous implants for people since the start of the war, including the neural implant that Lieutenant Detmer needed. He shut his eyes and rinsed his hair before grabbing the soap as he heard Hugh stand up and head out into the main room.

He yawned as he staggered out the shower, heading towards the bed in just a towel; however, Hugh took his arm and led him to the sofa before he reached his goal. 

“Drink this.” He instructed, and Paul obeyed without question, swallowing down the water and a tray was placed on the table. “And try to eat all of that.” He gave Paul one of the hypos that Holden had sent him back with and put the other one on the bedside table.

It was just toast and soup Hugh had given him, but keeping his eyes open well enough to keep loading the spoon with the soup was difficult. Eventually, the doctor took him back to the bathroom where he helped Paul into the pyjama pants then they brushed their teeth and Paul finally got to fall into bed, already dosing off as Hugh gave him the other hypo. 

“Love you.” Hugh whispered in his ear as his arm settled comfortably over Paul’s waist. 

_Love you too_ , he though in reply, but the effort to open his mouth and talk was too great as he sank into sleep.

\------

“Shit.” Paul swore quietly as he finally took a good look at the inside of the nacelles. “At least this should be the end of the damage though.”

He’d expected the warp field coils to be damaged though. The engineer crawled into the space, quietly cursing the short stature of the Tramoakans and he scraped his head against the top of the room. These nacelles were tiny and he doubted even his hosts could stand comfortably in this space. 

“I think I’ve been spoilt.” He sighed, thinking of Discovery’s nacelles and the comfortable space in them, where even the large Federation species could move around without difficulty. “Right. Finish this and at least they’ll have warp power again.”

Not that he was really looking forward to that. The warp core here was used to power most of the systems; there was plenty of reserve power still, but only because the crew had made a number of concessions, including reducing the heat to what Paul considered a considered a comfortable temperature; the Tramoakans were all been bundled up whenever he saw them.

Pulling the little PADD out of his pocket, the Chief Engineer sent a message to Bro’tak to let him know that he’d need replacements; he’d been given it to use while on board when he’d arrived hat morning, as Bro’tak had been keen to get back to his regular duties.

‘ _How many are required, Chief Engineer Stamets?_ ’

‘ _Three of the coils are unsalvageable. A fourth one could be repaired but will not function optimally without being removed from the system and fixed properly, which would take another full day._ ’

He didn’t bother dancing around telling them what was what. He’d show Bro’tak how to replace the coils when he got here and hopefully they’d just give him a new one rather than asking him to repair the last one. Leaning against the side, he took a deep drink from his flask; his headache was back and he could already feel it throbbing. He thought of Hugh’s warm smile as he waited, the way those brown eyes crinkled in the corner when he was amused by something, the comforting strength of his arms when he held Paul… he didn’t feel well and he wanted to cuddle up in bed with his husband, but it was going to have to wait. 

He put his flask back down and picked up his toolkit; he may as well make a start of removing the burnt out remains now and Bro’tak would hopefully be here before he’d finished up. Not that it was easy, he mentally grouched as he sliced a finger; this whole ship was built for Tramoakans and definitely not humans, the switches here required more pressure than he could easily manage and as simply as the computer systems were, the physical layout and the way the ship had been fitted together was awkward for him to manoeuvre through. He stopped to suck his finger, not wanting to bleed over everything; nothing in here was properly water-proofed and they didn’t have any decent engineers still alive to fix anymore fried systems. 

“Chief Engineer Stamets? I have the coils that you requested.”

“Then get in here. I’ll show you how to remove these old ones and we’ll get them put in. I’ve nearly finished the first, so I’ll do that on my own in a minute. I’ll show you from the start with this one.” He crawled a little further along to the panel for the next coil.

“Understood.”

“You’ll need to lose the gloves. I mean, take them off.” As frustrating as it was being alone for hours while he was working like this, at least he hadn’t had to remember about watching his speech patterns. 

Reluctantly, the man nodded and began to peel his short fingers out the fabric that had encased them. 

“First, you need to check there’s no power running through these systems.” He began and the purple haired man crouched beside him. “Your system is set up so you can’t access warp on emergency power, but when you have main power, you go into this console and just deactivate it.

“Understood.” The man pulled out his PADD to record everything Paul was telling him. 

“Make sure you’re watching while I do this. You can make notes later.” He said with a frown, once again slipping into treating Bro’tak like a slightly clueless cadet. “Once there is no power going through then you can remove the outer casing and then the coil housing, like this.” He carefully removed it, trying not to touch the sharp edges of the coil. 

“Remove the power, then the casing and then the housing.” Bro’tak confirmed as he watched carefully. 

“This housing will need replacing. It’s got stuff in it from where the old coil exploded, but it’ll do for now.”

“I’ll send a note that it needs changing.” He said, then stopped watching what Paul was doing as he sent a message. The human bit back a frustrated growl; the message could have waited until later and this kid had an annoying tendency to get distracted by the unimportant things.

“Can you see there is a switch up here?” he asked once the other was paying attention again. “That needs pressing then there’s one over here on this side. Press them together and it should slide down.”

“It’s not sliding down.”

“That’s because of the damage.” He continued to explain as patiently as he could. “If that happens and you’re on your own then press one down at a time and pull a little, then do the same one the other side and repeat until it’s out. If you have someone else here, then one of you holds the switches, like I am now and then the other pulls.” He waited for a moment but realised the man wasn’t taking the hint. “So take a hold of the coil and pull. It may take a bit of effort, but that’s okay cos these are getting binned anyway.”

“But we won’t bin them. They’ll be put into a resequencer and made into something useful.”

“I know that.” He snapped, exhaustion weighing him down as surely as the artificial gravity. “Now get pulling.”

Thankfully, the man stopped nit-picking and did as instructed. 

“Now, you need to clean the section before you put the new one in.” He sighed as he crawled back to the first one. “So get that scrubber and start removing all traces of damage.”

They worked in silence for a while, though Paul manage to finish the first one and the remaining two before Bro’tak had finished cleaning the second one. Resisting the urge to shout at him, the engineer simply fitted three of the replacement coils and made his way back over to the second section. 

“That’ll do.” He halted Bro’tak in his meticulous cleaning. “You can always send someone to clean these later on, but for now we’ll just get everything going again and hopefully get the warp core working.”

“Yes, Chief Engineer Stamets.”

“This is easy. Make sure it’s the right way round then slide it in. Check the switches have clicked in place then replace the housing.” He watched as the young man slowly obeyed. “Now replace the panel.”

“And we have warp power now?”

“It’ll take time to get going, but you can start up the reaction chambers. Come on. We’ll head down there to check you know how.” He began to crawl towards the exit, feeling thankful that that part was sorted.

“Understood.” Came the voice behind him.

Standing up, Paul groaned as he stretched. “Right. Let’s go.”

The process to set the warp core going again took a long time, simply because their engineering officers were all dead so the whole system needed updating to give Bro’tak access. Once it was going, Paul sent a message to the bridge to let them know it would be an hour until they could safely warp.

“Of course, you have to judge your captain in a situation like this.” He said as the two of them made their way to life support to check the systems there.

“I don’t understand.”

“If you have a patient captain, then you tell him it’ll be an hour before you can safely warp. If you don’t, then you wait an hour and tell him once you can safely warp.” He explained, privately hoping that Bro’tak got some more life experience before he ever got put in that situation.

“Why would you wait?”

“If your captain is someone who doesn’t like waiting, then you don’t tell him you can go.” He stated, thinking of what he would do on the Discovery in this situation. “That way, you shouldn’t risk another explosion like that again just because your captain wants to get a move on.”

“But if you have advised that it isn’t safe, then the captain ought to wait.”

“Very true. And on a Royal transport, you’ll find that that is what will happen; unless we hit another life or death situation then the captain will wait until the warp core is a hundred percent ready to go. If you end up somewhere else, your captain might decide that half an hour is long enough because he has a meeting to get to and can’t wait here for the full length of time, or that someone else is in trouble and he wants to push his engines to go help.” Because Captain Lorca was quite capable of rationalising his bad decision to make his choices seem reasonable.

“But if someone else is in trouble…” the kid hesitated, and Paul fought a grin.

“On this ship it’s not an issue. Your princess is more important than any random crew you might some across so your captain will keep her safe.” Bro’tak nodded so Paul continued. “But on another ship, you might tell the captain that in an hour you can warp without risk of explosion, but he might have a distress call from a friend and choose to risk his crew to go save this friend.”

“So it needs to be the Chief Engineer who judges whether or not to tell the captain. But what if you say you cannot warp yet and then the Klingons arrive.”

“Then no captain is going to wait an hour quietly. You’ll start getting messages saying that warp power is needed or you’re going to be blown up. Then you can tell the captain that there is a risk to warping.”

“I will need to consider this, but I think I understand.” He stopped by a door, tapping to keypad and leading Paul inside. “This is Life Support.”

It was a large bay filled with massive tanks and loud, churning machines. 

“Do you know how to run the scans to check them over?” he asked hopefully, as he looked around; their own life support was integrated with the ship far more efficiently, the key sections for different parts dotted around so that they couldn’t all be taken out with one hit.

“Yes Chief Engineer Stamets.” The young man scurried quickly up a ladder and over to a console as Paul followed far more slowly. The noise of the machines was disorientating and he sat heavily down at the base of the ladder, unwilling to try climbing it.

A glance at the time told him he’d been here for ten hours, so his medication would have worn off by now. 

“Now, we wait half an hour. If everything is good then I’m going to head back to the Discovery.” He explained when Bro’tak came back down. “We can finish up checking the non-critical systems tomorrow.”

“Would you prefer to wait here or closer to the transporter room?”

“Here will do. Double check your shielding though; I know it’s supposed to fix itself but I’d rather be sure.” He didn’t want to get to his feet until he had to; two days of this atmosphere were more than enough, but it was nice that the end was in sight. He’d looked at the shielding schematics earlier in the day and he wasn’t sure how to fix them if they were broken, so he was hoping that the shields wouldn’t need sorting out.

“I’ll get you some more water as well.” The young man took his flask and scurried back towards the door, but something rocked the ship, sending Bro’tak stumbling into the bulkhead.

“Bridge to Chief Engineer Stamets.” Came a voice from a com panel.

Moving heavily, Paul got to his feet and staggered over to reply.

“Stamets here.”

“We’re under attack by the Klingons.” The bridge officer sounded worried. “Our shields are at fifty percent already and we have no weapons. Are we able to warp?”

Mentally swearing, Paul sighed. “We can, but the warp core hasn’t had an hour to warm up yet. If you jump then you risk another explosion.”

“We have no choice.” He definitely sounded regretful now. “Your Discovery is trying to distract them but as the weak link, we are taking most of the weapon’s fire.”

“I’d advise you to clear Engineering before you warp.” He sighed, sliding to the floor as the bridge got back to work. 

He shut his eyes and waited as his skull pounded painfully. If they warped away, who the Discovery be able to defeat the Klingons and come get him? And some how, the thought of the Discovery being in battle without him was awful; the thought of Hugh being on a separate ship, one that would be in the line of fire while he was stuck here.... And stuck really was the word for it. He wasn’t sure he could even get up to go and help in Engineering... But he had to do something. Rolling onto his front, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees then slowly got to his feet. While it wasn’t within Starfleet regulation to check out the armoury on a non-Federation ship and assist in repairs there, he wanted to see if he could do anything anyway. If the Klingons followed, they needed to be able to defend themselves.

“Chief Engineer Stamets!” yelped Bro’tak, as he ran back over. “The Computer says that we have gone to warp.”

“I’m aware of that.” He replied through gritted teeth. “We need to get to the armoury though. If they follow, we need to be able to shoot something.”

“I... I understand but I think that I should take you to the medical bay.” Bro’tak had his purple hair clutched in a tight grip as he watched Paul struggle, apparently undecided on whether or not to help.

“Armoury first.” He replied with a shake of his head. “I can’t help in the medical bay.”

“Your nostrils are bleeding.” He offered, in a hesitant voice.

“Fuck.” But it didn’t change his priorities. “Help me to the armoury.”

Slung over the shorter man’s shoulder and unable to fully hold his own weight, they made an inelegant trip to the armoury, where Paul slumped over a console with Bro’tak holding his PADD so he could see the translations as he began to work through the damage report.

“Okay, you actually still have a tutorial on how to repair the basic weapons on your ship so get some people to work their way through them.” He instructed hoping that there were weapons engineers around who simply hadn’t come forward yet because they had nothing to do with propulsion. With a nod, the man hurried off to a com panel and Paul slid back down to the floor.

“They are here again. The Klingons.” Bro’tak said from across the room and Paul groaned without moving.

“What did you guys do to them?” he wondered unhappily, while hoping that the repair teams were moving quickly.

“The captain lost his temper with them.” He whispered, sounding like a child passing on secrets.

Paul frowned slightly. “I thought Klingons were impressed when people stood their ground.”

“He wasn’t polite.” This was hissed, and Paul could hear the shame in Bro’tak’s voice. He supposed that for a society based on rituals and routines for how to do everything, getting lost in the heat of the moment was shameful; and depending on what he shouted, the Klingons may well have taken serious offence.

“Eltar to Armoury.” The security chief’s voice came over the com.

“Armoury here.” Paul let the young man handle the call, his eyes getting heavy as he listened.

“We’ve repaired the main phasers but the captain wants to know if we can manage our torpedoes?”

“No. You need to do work outside the ship to get those repaired. They’re too badly damaged.” Paul raised his voice, but he heard Bro’tak repeating his words and realised he couldn’t project very well, not when breathing was so uncomfortable.

“Chief Engineer Stamets?” Bro’tak crouched beside him a moment later, but Paul couldn’t find the strength to lift his head anymore. Eyes shut, the man slid out of consciousness.

\------

By the time Paul opened his eyes again, the battle was long over and he woke to see the familiar white ceiling of sickbay. Turning his head, he spotted Hugh talking to one of the nurses and began to pull himself up.

“Lieutenant Stamets, you’re awake.” Nurse Nestor said, and Paul realised the man had been stood next to him.

“Obviously.” He grumbled, his head heavy as the nurse helped him sit up.

“Lieutenant.” Hugh’s greeting was far more welcome, and he managed a smile as Hugh picked up a tricorder. “How are you feeling?”

“Lousy.” He complained. “When do I get to head back to our quarters?”

“You’ve been out for nearly two days, Paul!” His husband’s voice was tense and Paul took in the exhaustion that was written all over his face. “So you aren’t going anywhere until I’m sure you’re fine.”

“What happened?” He asked Hugh as the man stared at his tricorder with a slight frown crinkling his brow. “The ship was being attacked by Klingons, did they get away?”

“I’m not entirely sure what happened exactly, but I know we followed the ship you were on and that Rhys completely took out their weapon systems.” He gently pushed Paul back to lie flat on the bio-bed before starting the full-body scan. “Then you were brought back over. I think the other ship left but I’m not sure. I’ve been more interested in you.”

“Good to hear.” He murmured quietly, a grin twitching at his lips as Hugh smiled down at him; a moment later, the machine beeped and Hugh looked away.

“Let’s see.” Paul sat up as the doctor brought the results up on the display and began to look through them. “You should be okay to go back to our quarters and rest there, but I’ll check with the CMO.”

“Do I get to go back to work tomorrow?” Paul asked, he had numerous things he wanted to check on and there was no doubt a build-up of datawork to get through.

“Not tomorrow.” Hugh shook his head. “You’ve still got regular hypos to take and I expect you’ll sleep for most of it anyway. I’ll see what Doctor Holden says for the day after.”

Paul glowered at his hands as they rested in his lap, but didn’t object. Even though he wanted to go and see his spores, he was tired already and hadn’t been awake for very long; arguing with Hugh took more energy than he had to spare at the moment so he waited as his husband went to talk to Holden. 

Surely even if he was stuck in his quarters tomorrow, he could still do something. Tilly would send the modified PADD over if he told her to with the current data on and he could at least start checking everything over from his bed. It was only a shame the Tramoakans’ bio-engineered shield was incompatible with their own systems; they didn’t have the technology and the ship would have to be built to incorporate it from the start. On the Royal transport, the shielding systems had been completely separate from the others, so that they would still be shielded if the warp core went offline and the other systems died. It had been interesting, but he was disappointed that he hadn’t seen anything more than the specs, having passed out before he had had a chance to look at the shield emitters.

“We’re good to go.” Hugh came over and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m only half way through my shift, so I’m going to drop you off and come back, but for now you just need sleep.”

“Sounds good to me.” Paul muttered, allowing Hugh to help him off the bed. “Let’s go.”

“Let me know if you need to puke.” Hugh smirked and they slowly headed out of sickbay, the doctor’s arm around his husband’s waist as Paul let Hugh take a large share of his weight.

“I will, dear doctor.” He assured him, with a warm smile. “No need to worry.”

Hugh snorted but didn’t refute him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Urgh.” The groan came as the door to their cabin slid shut.

“You okay, Honey?” Hugh called out as he headed out the washroom, taking off the rest of his uniform. “Long day?”

“There have been some rather large issues. Again. You know, I actually miss working on other ships, with more senior engineers who don’t need the Chief to be there all the time?” Paul’s tone was almost conversational, except that Hugh could easily pick out the sharp edges that hinted at his stress.

“I wonder if we’ll get some time on Earth.” Hugh wondered as he pulled on a clean pyjama top, changing the subject without any attempt to be subtle; he’d rather not discuss everything that was going wrong unless Paul needed to get it out. “There’s a conference on in Beijing this week about the brain and how the body links to consciousness that I want to attend.”

“It would be nice, but we’re not heading back to the Sol system.” Paul replied with a sigh as he flopped onto the bed, one arm over his face as he lay there. “We can’t warp anywhere until the plasma conduits are fixed, but there’re going to need taking out and bits need completely replacing.”

“I didn’t think they were too bad to fix.” Hugh mused as he crouched down and began to remove his husband’s boots, hiding his face as he allowed his disappointment to have a moment; there were supposed to be some good speakers there and he had enjoyed the last one he’d been to, but if Paul realised how much Hugh had wanted to go then he’d head out in the middle of the night to try and fix whatever was wrong so the doctor could have a chance to go. He hid it well, but his husband could be sweet and go out of his way to make Hugh happy. 

“Leave them on. I’m only taking five minutes.” Paul grunted unhappily.

“You finished your shift two hours ago. Lieutenant Collins can work on it till you’ve had a rest.” Hugh said firmly, placing one boot off to the side before working on the other one. 

“There was an explosion in the starboard nacelle and quite a bad one. It looks like it might have been deliberate but because we have so many cadets and fresh graduates, the nacelles are supposed to be sealed off so they can’t access them.” The scientist groaned, the long day apparently catching up to him. “But we still don’t have a new security chief so I told Commander Gotthelf-”

“Lieutenant, you mean.” Hugh reminded him, as the Arkenite had finally pissed Lorca off enough to get demoted in the field. There would be a review next time they stopped at Earth for a while, to decide if it was permanent or not, but it meant that he hadn’t been made Chief.

“Right. I’m not sure if he doesn’t believe me or if he just doesn’t care at the moment, but he hasn’t done anything about it. Then I can’t just leave the minions to get on with it because they’re not allowed to work on in the nacelles without the Chief Engineer there.” Paul wiggled his toes as they were freed and made no attempt to get up.

“You shouldn’t call them that.” He chuckled, as he rubbed a hand up and down Paul’s calf. “Something exploded?” he added, wondering what damage had been done.

“Yeah. Actually exploded. There’s stuff embedded in the walls.” Which would likely include the wall monitors, hence Paul’s lack of motivation to get moving; there was going to be a lot to do. “And some of the plasma has burnt through plating; it’s a big job.”

"So are we heading back to Earth in a few days instead?” 

“No. The Captain has just finished oh-so-calmly explaining to me that I need to get the ship in working condition by the time he gets back. He’s taking a shuttle to the meeting on Star-Base One.” Paul smirked as he slowly sat up. “He should be leaving in the next hour if you really want to get to that conference.”

Hugh shoved Paul back onto the bed with a laugh as he stood up. “You know fine well he’d forget to come collect me again after his meeting.”

“Guess you’ll just have to stay with me then.” Paul murmured, his eyes warm as he pulled himself up to wrap his arms around Hugh. “For the next five minutes, then I really do need to get back. I don’t think I can relax knowing we can’t go to warp.”

“Take what I can then.” Hugh smiled, leaning in to gently kiss his husband.

It was nice to take a moment after a busy day to enjoy Paul’s presence, his warm hands sliding up to hold Hugh’s head, the solid press of his body as he pushed the doctor against the wall by the washroom, the low moan he let out as Hugh once again grabbed his ass.

“ _Ensign Molina to Lieutenant Stamets_.” The com interrupted them, causing Hugh to groan unhappily as he pushed his face into the Chief Engineer’s neck. 

“I’m allowed to ignore her, right?” Paul inquired, one thigh still firmly stuck between Hugh’s legs. “It’s not been five minutes.”

Hugh didn’t answer, having turned his attention to kissing Paul’s neck, nipping lightly at it as he felt the rumble of a moan building again in the other man.

“ _Lieutenant Stamets? Please respond._ ”

“You should probably go fix stuff then.” He sighed, giving Paul one last kiss before sliding away. “I’m going to have a nice, hot shower and get some sleep.”

“Stamets here.” Paul had stepped over to the com panel, but he was still staring at Hugh with blatant longing in his eyes.

“ _We’ve found all the parts you asked for and I’ve got Cadet Wells and Cadet Hansen with me. We just need you here to make a start._ ”

“I’m on my way.” Paul replied before going to get his boots.

“Two cadets and an ensign?” Hugh asked, wondering why they were doing it.

“If I have to be up late doing this, then they get to be too.” Paul informed him unapologetically. “Hopefully they can fix it on their own and I’ll just be supervising, but I need to complete Hansen’s file before the end of the year so he can go graduate. I only realised the other day that the tutor he had before joining the Discovery hadn’t done half of the reports that she should have done, so I’m trying to play catch-up and get him to do a bit of everything.”

“That’s bad.” Hugh mused as he picked up his toothbrush. “Are you going to mention it?”

“No point. She died in the Battle of the Binary Stars so the fact that she was lazy with her datawork is kind of moot now.”

“I don’t remember any note about Hansen being in that battle.” Hugh frowned. He liked to know who had been in large-scale battles and who hadn’t been in any real combat yet because he sometimes needed to use a different approach when treating them.

“He wasn’t. He had that Risan Shingles that was going round and was stuck on Earth.” Paul came into the washroom to kiss his cheek. “I’ll try not wake you when I get back in.”

“Love you.” He called as Paul disappeared out the door.

Paul glanced back as he stepped out, a smile on his face. “Love you too.” He replied as the door slid shut between them.

\------

“Doctor Culber?” Burnham’s voice cut through the low drone of noise in sickbay. Hugh turned to see her approaching him, her head held high as she ignored the curious mutters from the rest of the medical staff. “I need your help.”

“What’s the problem?” He asked, allowing her to lead him off to a quieter spot. 

“What do you know about how the Spore Drive works?” Her question was unexpected, and Hugh wondered where she was going with this.

“I know it gives the user access to the mycelial network and when it works properly, we can use its web to travel the galaxy. I know that the spores are unlike anything we have on Earth and that Lieutenant Stamets has had to send several people off the Discovery because when they are allergic to the prototaxites stellaviatori, the symptoms get severe very quickly.” He frowned at her. “If you’re showing any symptoms of an allergy then you need to let me know.” Ensign Peters had nearly died before getting sent away because he’d ignored the allergy in favour of working on the Spore Drive.

“Really?” She looked startled for a moment, but then she shook her head. “No. I’m not allergic. I mean, what do you know of how it works now?”

“You mean with the tardigrade?” He raised his brow; he’d never actually come across the creature that had killed their Chief of Security and was powerful enough to rip through the hull of a starship, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to.

For a moment, her lips twitched into a smile, but then the expression became tinged with noticeable worry. “I think it needs to see a doctor.” But apparently he was going to go and see this thing.

He considered pointing out that he was more of a neurologist than a vet, but then simply gestured for her to lead the way. She was a stubborn woman and Hugh was more than familiar with the way such people worked, having been married to the most mulish man for nearly ten years; it was sometimes easier to just help them out, as a refusal would likely meant they tried to struggle on anyway, but alone rather than with help.

“What do you know of the tardigrade?” She asked as they left sickbay.

“Mostly only what Lieutenant Stamets has told me.” He informed her as they stopped to wait for a lift. “That it can shift between dimensions, from ours to a deeper one, where the mycelial network exists and possibly to others beyond that. I know that Straal’s device connects it to the ship which allows us to travel the network with far more accuracy than we were managing before.” He frowned as they stepped into the lift and Burnham tapped the control panel, trying to recall anything else. “I know it can survive situations that would kill humans, such as the vacuum of space and when the Glenn encountered that Hawking Radiation Wall.”

“I don’t think it’s invincible though.” She sighed, as they set off again. 

“It’s got both an offensive and defensive advantage over us.” Hugh added with a slight shudder, remembering how it had torn Landry to shreds. 

“Captain Lorca is keeping it in here.” She said as they stepped into a room Hugh had never been in before: Lorca’s private study.

The tardigrade was larger than he had expected, and he could instantly see what Paul had meant by multi-dimensional by the way parts of its body faded from sight. 

“Doctor Culber, I have been studying the creature since it came on board.” Burnham explained as the tardigrade plodded about its cage. “It’s incredibly regenerative but with each jump Discovery makes, it cries out.” He glanced over at the woman, her face a picture of concern as she watched the creature. “In the last forty eight hours, it seems sluggish, depressed.”

“We don’t know if it experiences stress or pain like we do.”

“You think I’m anthropomorphising.” She noted, but her eyes were still focussed on the creature. 

“You discovered how to use the tardigrade for navigation.” He turned his gaze from Burnham to the creature, its slow, limping movements pitiful in a way that Hugh couldn’t distance himself entirely from; but he glanced back at the mutineer as he began to realise that she wasn’t the cold woman who had started a war with the Klingons, as many still assumed she was. “A victory that maybe isn’t a victory anymore, given the creature’s deteriorating condition. Let me run some tests.”

“Thank you.” She whispered with honest gratitude on her face.

As he headed off to grab a medkit, he smiled to himself. Though he’d never admit it to either of them, she reminded him of Paul; his husband struggled to connect with people in a meaningful way, often coming across as cold or offensive because he was too awkward to know what to say, but then man cared about his mushrooms with genuine love and concern. He supposed Burnham was the same with the tardigrade; that she struggled with people, especially here where many treated her as a pariah, but the tardigrade, something which was unable to mock her, was given the focus of her concern. 

“Culber? I thought you’d headed off to lunch already.” Holden raised her brow as Hugh re-entered sickbay.

“Not yet.” He shook his head as he began to pull out a medkit with the more in-depth scanning equipment. “There’s a problem with the creature we’re using for navigation.”

“The one that killed Commander Landry?” She asked, turning from the chart she was updating to look at him. “Be careful.”

“Burnham thinks it attacked in self-defence; having seen it for myself, I agree.” He straightened up and gave her a slight smile. “But I will be careful.”

“Do you want Beckett to come with you?” Doctor Beckett was also trained as a vet and often preferred animals over people.

“I’ll come find him if I need help with anything.” He shook his head. He wasn’t sure if Lorca would be happy having Hugh in there, never mind the idea that he might bring other people along with him. He’d only risk bringing Lorca’s bad mood down on everyone if it was necessary.

An hour later, Hugh was sat outside the containment pen, thinking. It seemed that Paul had set up scans to be taken of the tardigrade twice with every jump; once as soon as it was transported into the reaction cube and another once the jump was finished. He wasn’t entirely surprised; Paul was an engineer as well as a scientist and checking the components of your machine were working properly was essential, especially with something like a living creature. Hugh had done all the extra scans he could from here, and he’d noted certain areas of concern, but he really needed this field down so that he could keep going. However, he wasn’t stupid enough to risk getting rid of the shield without precautions.

The door to Lorca’s study opened. “Okay. What do you need my spores for?” Paul asked as he came up behind Hugh. 

“I want to do some scans that can’t be done behind a field.” Hugh explained as his husband crouched down beside him.

“And you’re going to feed it my mushrooms for that?” Paul sounded hurt, but Hugh knew he was just joking, his eyes shining in a way that indicated he was in a good mood.

He took the container from Paul with a laugh and stood up. “Just the spores and you know it.” He retorted, smiling over at him. 

The scientist returned his smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he stepped over to the panel beside the pen. “Ready?”

“Maybe you should feed it.” Hugh paused hesitantly, not wanting Paul too close to the tardigrade but also not sure how to feed the creature and get the scans at the same time.

“Pass that over then.” Paul took the container and pushed him gently towards the panel. “Ready?”

“It killed Landry.” Hugh attempted to explain his reluctance. For all it seemed like a docile thing, he wasn’t certain what had set it off last time.

"We'll be fine. Come on. You don’t want Lorca to see who’s been in his study and start wondering why we’re hanging out in here.” Paul winked badly at him, but it relaxed Hugh nonetheless, making him snort with laughter as he stepped over to drop the pen.

“He’s not even on the ship.” Hugh grinned, but tapped at the panel all the same. “Three, two, one… here we go.”

The shield lowered, Paul opened his container and sprinkled some spores by the front of the pen. Slowly, as though it remembered the threats that existed here, the creature crept forwards; as it approached the spores, it lifted its head to consider Paul, then Hugh, before deeming them safe enough and it began to eat. Hugh edged towards it, tricorder raised as he began to scan its brain.

“It talks to them, you know.” Paul said softly, his eyes warm as he crouched down to watch the tardigrade. 

Hugh tensed up, wanting to snap at his husband to get back while not wanting to risk distracting something that could be so dangerous. “What?”

“The tardigrade. It converses with my mushrooms.” The wistful longing in his voice would have been funny under any other circumstances, but Hugh couldn’t forget what the creature had done to Landry; trying not to think of Paul with deep gouges in his skin, Hugh glared at the screen of his tricorder.

But Paul might have had a point. As the scientist sprinkled more spores out, there was something happening to the tardigrade’s brain. “A symbiotic relationship of some kind?” although if it was talking to them, it was a little strange to think it would chat to them then eat them; that sounded a little sadistic from a human standpoint. 

“I wish I knew.” Paul sighed as he reached out and laid a hand on top of the tardigrade’s head. “I wish I could see what’s going on in there.”

“Paul, please get back from it.” Hugh finally had to speak up, his stomach churning as his husband scratched the creature’s shell like a pet. “Please!”

The pleading tone worked and Paul straightened up and moved over to him. “You okay?” He rested a hand on his shoulder, blue eyes filled with concern as he looked him over.

“It killed Landry. It probably was self-defence but plenty of creatures get defensive over their food.”

“Sorry.” For once, Paul didn’t try argue his point, but simply turned to watch the creature again. “So why are you scanning it?” Apparently Burnham hadn’t told Paul what was bothering her yet.

“We’re not sure how these jumps are affecting the tardigrade yet. I don’t want it to get sick.” Not just because Lorca would be furious if their Spore Drive had to stay offline while the tardigrade recovered, but because Paul would end up feeling guilty; he’d always been a sucker for stray animals, even when Hugh had met him back in their academy days. 

“It’s not allowed to be sick until we’ve got the warp drive going again.” Paul sighed, running a hand through his hair as he watched the creature eat.

Hugh rubbed a hand over his shoulder. “Still haven’t sorted it? I don’t think I saw you last night after you went back out again at all.”

“You were fast asleep by the time I got back.” The engineer shrugged before stepping over to empty the rest of the spores out. “And I woke up before the alarm and just headed straight back out.”

“You nearly there?” Hugh kept his tricorder trained on the tardigrade, but he was watching his husband as he asked. “Is there much left to do?”

“I think the longest part is getting the cadets to do the work. I’d be finished by now if it was just me doing it.”

“But they won’t learn that way.” Hugh finished off the thought and Paul nodded slightly. 

“Exactly. I think we will get it all working today though. Then I’ll sit down and do datawork for Hansen and Wells’ files.”

“I’m going to go do an analysis on these scans.” Hugh sighed, glancing down at his tricorder. 

Paul stepped passed him to tap at the panel. “Do you have time for lunch?” he asked as the containment pen powered back up.

“I can spare half an hour, I suppose.” Hugh gave a false sigh, fighting back a grin as they stepped out the room.

“I’d be ever so grateful.” Paul smirked, rolling his eyes. “I just need to take this back to Engineering. I’ll meet you in the mess hall in five minutes.”

“Sure. I’m just going to take this equipment back to sickbay.”

Paul nodded and headed off down a corridor as Hugh tapped a panel to call the lift to him. The scans looked interesting though, so at least the afternoon wouldn’t drag by.

\------

It was during lunch that they got the news that Crewman Caron had been killed and Captain Lorca captured by the Klingons; Paul had abandoned his meal to go and finish the repairs himself, leaving just as Commander Saru commed to ask about the warp drive.

Hugh made his way back to sickbay and began to study the scans he had made. It was a problem that he hadn’t had the chance to make scans of the creature before to give himself a complete baseline to work from; he only had the basic scans made by Engineering. 

“ _Burnham to Doctor Culber._ ” The com pulled his attention away from the screen, and he leaned over to tap the panel.

“Go ahead, Burnham.”

“ _I was wondering if you have made any progress yet._ ” She said, her voice calm and clear in a way that masked any emotions she may have been feeling.

“From what I’ve seen, the tardigrade does seem to be wary of us; I’d postulate that it can feel pain and as such we are having an impact on it, but I haven’t had a chance to work through the scans yet, so I have no proof.”

“ _I understand and can come back for proof later. For now, I’m going to speak to the captain about my concerns. Burnham out._ ” She was gone before Hugh had the chance to point out that Lorca hadn’t returned yet. 

“Let’s think about this creature first.” He decided; she’d discover he was gone on her own.

He started a new file, adding his observations to start with:

_The tardigrade has an exoskeleton. Like its microscopic Earth counterparts, it is an invetebrate. Its behaviour indicates a certain amount of sentience, such as the reluctance to approach the spores when people were present, the way it shuffled forwards when Specialist Burnham was present, how it observed the surroundings before going for the spores earlier on… though it is not clear if it had enough intelligence to count as sapient._  
_From the basic scans performed by Chief Engineer Stamets before and after each jump, there seems to be considerable deterioration in its frontal lobe after each jump, and though the tardigrade seems capable of regenerating this as well, the rest period between jumps is too short to allow it chance to fully recover._

He moved onto the more complex scans that he had taken. 

_The tardigrade’s scans show that it has a centralised nervous system, which is typically required in a sentient being as it allows the creature to recognise positive and negative experiences, such as-_

He cut off, trying to think of a tactful way to say ‘getting stabbed by Straal’s machine on a regular basis.’

_Such as interacting with the Spore Drive, which involves needles being inserted in between the plates of its exoskeleton into soft flesh. In fact, it is interesting to note how complex its nervous system is in comparison with most invertebrates on Earth, including the microscopic tardigrades. There is also evidence of nociceptor drivers, which allow it to recognise potentially dangerous stimuli with speed; similar to how humans can recognise something burning their hand and move it before they have a chance to fully acknowledge there is any pain._  
_The brain scans also hint at a highly interconnected frontal cortex, though there will need to be some prolonged tests performed to gain more solid evidence._

The problem, as Burnham had noted, with trying to determine if something was sentient in any intelligent way or if it existed based more on instinct, was the human tendency to anthropomorphise. It was hard for a human to judge if something was intelligent, self-aware and conscious as a large part of human compassion came from empathy, and the ability to imagine what someone or something else was going through. 

Hugh sighed and continued to consider the scans floating in front of his face. If they were hurting this creature, Paul wouldn’t be happy about it; as much as he tried to come across as a hard-ass, he’d never even killed the pests that used to eat his crops back when this had been a hobby in between assignments. Straal had been happy to get rid of the pests in any way, but Paul had always insisted on humane traps; unfortunately, Paul had spent more time off-world than Straal so Hugh wasn’t sure how well the other scientist had stuck to that.

Hugh decided he might as well update the xenoanthropologist. “Culber to Burnham.” 

“ _Go ahead, doctor._ ”

“I’ve finished my analysis of the scans I made. When do you want to discuss them?”

“ _I should finish my current work within half an hour. I can make my way to sickbay when I’m free_.”

“I’ll be here.” 

“ _Thank you, doctor_.” The emphasis on the words was actually kind of endearing. “ _Burnham out_.”

\------

“I have a request.” Burnham said as he finished explaining his findings.

He raised his brow but nodded for her to continue. “What is it?”

“Will you present this with me to Lieutenant Stamets?”

He couldn’t help the perplexed look that settled on his face. “I’m not saying no, but can I ask why?” 

She blatantly held back a sigh. “Lieutenant Stamets doesn’t like me, however I often see him eating meals with you. I’m hoping that with you there he will consider my request to find a work around.” The blank, Vulcan mask dropped, leaving an oddly vulnerable expression in its place. “I don’t want the tardigrade to suffer because I cannot find the right words to speak to him.”

His own sigh slipped out as he noted the logic. If Paul was in a bad mood then Burnham would be rejected before she even got her words out. “Okay. Let’s go then.” This hopefully wouldn’t take too long. Doctor Holden had asked him to help out with an operation this afternoon.

“Thank you, Doctor Culber.” She said, her expression once again mostly blank except for the warm crinkle in the corner of her eyes.

“You should know that Lieutenant Stamets rarely, if ever, listens to me.” He needed to point out as they entered the Engineering Test Bay; Paul didn’t actually like people correcting his work unless they had definite proof. With evidence, at least, Paul could be gracious enough to reconsider things, if he was in a good mood.

Unfortunately, the notion that the project he’d been working on for the last ten plus years needed to take a step back because one of the components had feelings? Hugh hoped he would listen as Paul would have suck it up and find another way. Maybe if Hugh did enough scans of the tardigrade’s brain then they could find something useful.

“I can handle him.” Burnham replied confidently.

Hugh held back a scoff at the almost Vulcan arrogance in that statement. “Please, show me how.”

“Lieutenant Stamets.” Burnham addressed him as the stopped at his station. “Your Spore Drive is genius. Beyond genius. What you’ve achieved for the war effort, for the whole of science itself, it’s a contribution-”

“I know I’m brilliant.” Paul interrupted her painful attempt at flattery. “What are you trying to get out of me? And why are you with her?” He looked into his husband’s eyes, his countenance already noticeably defensive. 

Hugh answered for himself, mildly concerned that Burnham would try and ‘handle’ Paul again; compliments from anyone but Hugh tended to make the scientist suspicious rather than happy. “Burnham is worried about the physical effects that the Discovery’s jumps are having on the tardigrade.” Paul shifted his gaze to her as the doctor continued. “I’ve done my own evaluations and I must concur. Scans of its frontal lobe show significant cumulative deterioration every time we go to black alert.” 

“We need to find a work around.” Burnham cut in before Hugh could continue. “Making Ripper the critical component for the S-Drive is unsustainable.”

Burnham had asked him to present this with her as she wasn’t sure if she could find the right words to speak to Paul, so he was going to be the one to say the difficult things to his husband. After all, she’d already messed up by showering him with praise when it wasn’t in her nature. “We could lose them both.” The doctor said quickly. “And with them, any chance of saving Captain Lorca.”

“Aren’t there actual people on this ship who require you attention, doctor?” Paul scowled at him, and Hugh was aware that he’d cut this conversation short by mentioning Lorca.

“Actually, the CMO does need my help with an Andorian tonsillectomy.” He nodded at Paul, gave Burnham a smile, wished he was telepathic enough to tell her to quit flattering his husband and headed back off to sickbay.

\------

“ _Cadet Tilly to Doctor Culber_.” The cadet’s young voice had a note of panic in it, but Hugh had just been sorting through the datawork after the operation and so was free to speak.

“Go ahead, Tilly.”

“ _We- we’ve got a problem, doctor. Like, a really big one_.”

“With what?” He asked, but he was already switching the call to his communicator. 

“ _With Ripper, umm, the tardigrade_.” She huffed nervously. “ _It leaked and it’s shrank and-_ ”

Hugh heard Paul cut the cadet off, though he couldn’t make out the actual words.

“ _Lieutenant Stamets said he thinks it’s gone into some kind of hibernation_.” She informed him and Hugh grabbed a medical tricorder and headed off. 

“I’m on my way.” He told her. “Leave it where it is.”

But when he scanned the lump that was the tardigrade, he was inclined to agree with Paul. “It’s in a state of cryptobiosis, which basically means life without water.” He told them.

“Which is why it leaked everywhere?” Tilly asked, apparently eager to learn as her eyes roamed the shell.

“Exactly. The microscopic tardigrades have survived Earth’s five mass extinctions. Scientists think they were around four-hundred and fifty million years ago, so they are pretty hardy.” He’d done a fair bit of reading on them already, but they were actually pretty interesting.

“Wow.” Tilly gaped, her expression not exactly attractive, but her enthusiasm made him smile.

“Not that they are exactly the same as this one here, but they can survive for a long time like this and then return to normal when conditions are better.”

“It’s like this because we keep making it jump?” Paul’s voice was blank, but Hugh could hear the guilt in it.

“Like I said, once conditions improve then it should be just fine.”

“We need to go tell _Captain_ Saru.” There was a snarl in that, Hugh noted. He wondered in Paul and Saru had been butting heads again.

“I’ll go with you.” He said, putting his tricorder away and standing. “Come on.”

They headed out quietly, Hugh unsure what to say yet and Paul lost in his own thoughts.

“The creature has gone into a state of extreme cryptobiosis by reducing the water content levels of its body to less than one percent.” Hugh informed Saru as they stood on the bridge before him. “Its vital signs have slowed to the point where we can barely detect them.”

“Well, rehydrate it and bring it back.” Saru said as he turned away. “Mr Rhys, have we been detected?”

“Negative.”

“Captain Saru.” Hugh cut in. “I’m not-”

Then Saru held a hand up to his face to stop the doctor from talking. Clenching his jaw, Hugh glanced over at Paul who looked irked on his behalf; a comforting sight when their commanding officer seemed to be channelling Lorca. He raised a brow at Paul, wondering if he should keep arguing his point or just give up for now and explain later that it wasn’t safe to rehydrate the tardigrade so they had had to jump without it. It was possible they would jump into a worse situation without a navigator again, but they would be out of Klingon space and they usually ended up safe enough. Paul nodded encouragingly at him, so he stepped forwards. 

“Captain, we’re not done here.” Saru finally gave his senior medical officer his attention. “This isn’t like waking someone from a nap. This is an extreme reaction to adverse conditions. The tardigrade is in survival mode.”

“So are we, doctor. Crack it open if you have to.”

“In my opinion, that will kill it.” He argued, angry that this was being asked of him. 

Saru gave him a sad look, but his words showed that he was as cold as Lorca. “As it is our only way to get out of Klingon space, it is a risk we must take.”

“Captain, neurological tests indicate that this creature may be sentient.” He was not going to back down, but he tried to look more pleading that annoyed. 

But Saru’s expression was hardening and Hugh could guess what was coming. “If that ends up being true, I will face the consequences of my actions. I do not enjoy being in this position but I have one hundred and thirty four souls to protect today. Be ready to force the creature to comply.”

But Hugh had sworn ‘Above all, I must not play God.’ It was considered by many to be an outdated part of the oath, but Hugh had been raised catholic and he had some faith left. When he had sworn not to play God, he had meant it. He wouldn’t kill anyone for Starfleet. “I will not be party to murder.”

“Doctor, I was not talking to you.” Saru dismissed him, the Kelpian’s attention on the Chief Engineer. “Do you understand my orders and can I count on you to follow them, Lieutenant Stamets?”

Hugh looked at Paul, just in time to hear him respond. “Yes sir.” And with a glance, his husband left the bridge.

“Paul!” Hugh hissed as he caught him up. “Are you really going to do this?”

“Hugh…” For a moment, there was a deep, painful vulnerability on Paul’s face, but he quickly wiped it off. “I have my orders.”

“You are going to kill it.” He retorted as they stepped off the lift and Paul paused for a moment.

“You heard Commander Saru. We’re in Klingon space and once we have the captain, we need to get out of here or risk them spotting us.” He folded his arms across his chest, unable to meet Hugh’s furious gaze.

“It’s not the creature’s fault that we are here.” He stepped forward, gripping Paul’s shoulder. “Please.”

Paul stepped back, out of his reach. “I’m sorry.” He turned and left, and Hugh could have cried.

Paul was going to kill someone. He was going to knowingly kill someone… They’d had arguments before, they’d had disagreements and times they hadn’t been able to find a happy compromise, but this was wrong.

He hurried back to sickbay and stormed into the office, dropping into a chair and hiding his face in his hands. Paul didn’t even kill spiders when they were on Earth… he just couldn’t fathom how his husband would do this after hearing that it was a sentient creature. 

His eyes drifted to the only display in the office that didn’t change: the oath they had all sworn.

_I swear to fulfil, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:_  
_\- I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow._  
_\- I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism._  
_\- I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug._  
_\- I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery._  
_\- I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God._  
_\- I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick._  
_\- I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure._  
_\- I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm._  
_\- If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help._

Paul had sworn a Hippocratic Oath of Scientists once; it hadn’t been in any ceremony but whispered into Hugh’s ear sometime in the few months between when he’d proposed and when they had married, one hand resting on Hugh’s paper Bible after a long discussion on how far science should go. Paul had been nearly two years into his fungi research with Straal and he’d probably done it more to make Hugh smile than out of any need to put the words out there.

_I promise to work for a better galaxy, where science and technology are used in socially responsible ways. I will not use my education for any purpose intended to harm human beings, extra-terrestrial beings or the environment. Throughout my career, I will consider the ethical implications of my work before I take action. While the demands placed upon me may be great, I sign this declaration because I recognize that individual responsibility is the first step on the path to peace._

Hugh had genuinely never considered the idea that it would come up. He took deep breaths as he fought back tears; he could understand to a certain extent that Paul didn’t want the whole ship in danger with them in Klingon space, that he considered the needs of the many more important than the needs of the tardigrade, but it was an innocent creature that hadn’t asked to be imprisoned here. 

“ _Black Alert. Black Alert_.” The computer’s voice sent a cold chill through Hugh and he curled in on himself tighter. He felt sick.

“ _Transporter Room to sickbay, we are transporting two to you now._ ”

Hugh heard the transmission and pulled himself up. Work was good. He needed the distraction.

“I’ll sort the Captain.” Holden said as she passed him. “You help the other man.”

Hugh nodded and stopped next to him. “Hi. I’m Doctor Culber.”

“Lieutenant Ash Tyler.” The man replied, his eyes darting around as he spoke in a soft, almost nervous voice. 

“I’m going to run some scans, if that’s okay.” He said, already starting the tricorder up. “I just need you to hold still for me.”

“Sure thing, doc.” Tyler managed a slight smile as he settled back on the biobed.

“ _Commander Saru to Sickbay_.” A call came over the com, but Hugh ignored it in favour of treating Tyler; he was aware that he wouldn’t have answered Saru even if he had been free.

As Harris took the call, Hugh noted areas of concern with Tyler. “We’re going to have to run some deeper scans.” He informed him. “How long were you on the Klingon ship?”

“I think since… the captain said the battle has a name. Battle of the Binary Stars.” He let out a bitter laugh, his whole face contorted in misery. “They named it.” 

“Okay.” He said soothingly, his heart aching as he acknowledged how difficult it must have been to survive so long on a prison ship. 

“Before that, I served on the USS Yeager.” He forced a brittle smile onto his face. “She was a damn fine ship and Captain Maranville was as fine a captain as you could find.”

He barely noticed the hum of the transporter as he set the full body scanner going. “I never did meet him.” He said, as he noticed Tyler getting twitchy.

“He was a good man. Always ate his meals in the mess with the rest of the crew. He felt like one of us, but could still scold you like a first year cadet if you made a mistake.” Tyler managed a more genuine smile, though it was a little watery.

“I’ve had a ca-” but a cry from across sickbay caught his attention. “Paul?!” 

“Doctor Harris has him.” Nurse Nestor assured him as he blocked the way. “Your friend will be fine.”

Hugh stood staring though, unable to see what exactly was going on as Harris got Nurse Zhang to help him strip Paul’s top off. “Doctor Culber, you have a patient.” Nestor reminded him, and Hugh tore his eyes away.

“You know him?” Tyler asked in a low voice as Hugh deliberately put his back to his husband, having to trust his colleagues to look after him.

“Yeah.” But he wasn’t going to say any more than that. “You can sit up again.”

“Here.” Nestor was by his side, holding out a regenerator before moving close enough to clean Tyler’s face himself. 

“Thanks.” Hugh sighed, listening carefully as Paul’s yells lessened and became little more than unhappy groans. Once Nestor stepped back, he moved in to start repairing the damage.

“Am I sleeping here?” Tyler asked conversationally, and it took Hugh a moment to realise the man was trying to distract him from listening to Paul’s pain.

“Yes. We’ll keep you for observations overnight. You’ll have tests to undergo tomorrow I expect and then once you get through all of that, we can discuss what’s next.”

“Sounds good.” He answered, but his eyes looked painfully hollow for a moment. 

“But before all of that, you get a hot meal.” He said, and the words brought a proper smile to Tyler’s face. “I’ll have one brought here. It’ll only be small to start with as you’re malnourished, but it’s better than you get on Klingon prison ships, I expect.”

“Oh doc, that sound excellent.” Tyler moaned in delight.

Hugh nodded at Nestor, who turned and scuttled off to go get the patient a meal. 

“Doctor Culber? Harris can take over here.” Holden said, and Hugh smiled again at Tyler before following her over to Paul’s bed.

“What happened? Did the tardigrade attack him?” He asked, but Paul didn’t look like he’d been torn apart.

“No.” She frowned, turning to look at him as she handed over a PADD. “He manipulated his DNA to mix it with the tardigrade’s.”

“What?” 

“Then he functioned as the navigator with the Spore Drive. The device perforated his skin, twice on each side so there are four wounds in total.” Her voice softened as Hugh was unable to keep the distress off his face.

“What?” He repeated, eyes skimming over the notes, but he wasn’t taking it in.

“He’s all healed up, so I’m going to wake him up and send you both home.”

“He’s okay?” Hugh just needed to hear the words, as apparently his brain had powered down and he couldn’t understand what he was seeing on the PADD.

“He’s fine. He just needs to sleep and take it easy. Neither of you are working tomorrow, I want you to rest up and keep an eye on him. Come back in the morning so we can scan him again though.” She smiled as she took the PADD back out his unresisting hands. “Cadet Tilly said he has eaten dinner today and I’m assuming you ate when I sent you for food earlier on, so you both just need to get to bed and sleep.”

With that she turned and pressed a hypospray into Paul’s neck.

“Lieutenant Stamets?”

“What?” Paul’s groggy voice sent a rush of relief through Hugh. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Holden asked as the scientist began trying to sit up. Hugh hurried to his side to help.

“I thought we argued.” He said in a small voice, looking up at Hugh.

“We can sort that out later. What do you remember after that?”

“I… Uhhh…” He flushed as he looked awkwardly around. “I made the Spore Drive work.” His voice was even softer this time, apparently perfectly aware that Hugh was unhappy with his actions.

“We’re going to keep a close eye on you for a while, Lieutenant.” She said with a slight scowl. “But you’re both free to go.”

Hugh nodded and hurried off to get a spare t-shirt for Paul, as his other tops were torn and bloody. Once his husband was dressed, they made a slow and silent path back to their cabin. Several times, Hugh wanted to speak up, but he was aware his emotions were all over the place. From anger to relief to joy to curiosity and back to spitting rage, Hugh held his tongue as everything swirled inside because Paul was leaning heavily on him, a sweat forming on his skin as the tender skin on his sides was undoubtedly getting tugged at uncomfortably. 

“Do you need help changing?” He asked once they were in their quarters and Paul sat on the edge on their bed.

“I’m okay thanks.” Paul replied, but his voice was still vulnerable in a way that melted Hugh’s anger away.

He dropped onto the bed beside Paul and pulled him into a tight hug. “I am really angry at you, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were going to kill that thing, then I thought it had killed you. And now I find you’ve broken a law that’s in place for a reason.” His voice broke slightly, but he relaxed as Paul’s arms came up to return the embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Paul repeated, but his own voice sounded a little more like himself; it was nice to hear.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He pulled back and stood up. “We’re both under orders to get some sleep though. And we have tomorrow off.”

“Hugh…” But the doctor needed a moment to himself and headed into the washroom, letting the door slide shut behind him.

Soon enough, he had Paul by his side again.

“Stop.” Paul grumbled as he brushed his teeth, but the doctor didn’t mind the whinging.

Hugh kept his eyes on the tricorder, having settled down enough that he could make sense of the readings again. “Stop what?”

“Stop worrying. Stop doctoring.”

“Well, one tends to worry when they’re doomed to love a brilliant but reckless maniac who’s willing to risk his life for glory.” But he stopped scanning and picked up his toothbrush.

“The captain was in danger.” Paul said quietly, glancing over at him.

“Captains are in danger every day.” And Lorca wasn’t even a captain they liked. 

Paul gave him a soft, tired look. “You were in danger.”

But Hugh didn’t know how to respond to that. He went back to cleaning his teeth, trying to calm down enough to sleep.

“I’ve spent my entire career trying to grasp the essence of mycelium. Now for the first time, I do.” Paul’s expression was actually contented, a smile in his eyes as he tried to explain what he’d gone through. “I saw the network. An entire universe of possibilities I never dreamed existed. It’s… unspeakably beautiful.” Hugh couldn’t help returning his smile as they both looked back into the mirror. “I also knew you’d leave me if I let anything else endanger that creature.” He added on.

“Oh.” Hugh grinned, happy that Paul had realised how much it had bothered him. “So you do listen to me.”

“Not really. You sold that with a look.” The hesitant attempt at a joke was appreciated, but Hugh needed to say one last serious thing before bed.

“Don’t do anything that stupid every again.” He’d rather be stuck in Klingon space with Paul in full health than anywhere else without him; be it because the mixing of DNA had damaged him, Straal’s machine had killed him or his mind had been left in this network of endless possibilities. Hugh didn’t care where they were as long as they were together. “You may not care about you, but I do.” He took a moment to touch Paul again, looking into his eyes to check he was all there. “You sure you feel okay?”

“Yes, dear doctor. I feel okay.” Paul reassured him, his expression open. 

He nodded. “Okay.” And now it really was time to get some sleep.

He headed back into the main room, picking up his PADD to update the alarm for a later hour before folding the blankets back and crawling under them.

“Lights five percent.” Paul said as he got into his side curling on his side as the lights dimmed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Paul.” Hugh lay on his back staring at the darkness as his eyes adjusted. 

He heard Paul sighed, shifting about to get comfortable.

Then he turned onto his side, facing away to stare at the washroom door.

He wriggled onto his stomach.

And onto his side.

This wasn’t comfortable either so he tried plumping his pillow up.

“If you need to keep talking, then go for it.” Paul said, sounding far more comfortable than Hugh was. “Don’t let it keep you up.”

“I don’t understand why you had to use a navigator at all.” He said a little sharply. “We’ve never needed one before and as we weren’t trying to go anywhere in particular other than out of Klingon space, then I don’t see why you needed to do that to yourself.”

“You don’t understand.” Paul sighed, his voice muffled by his pillow. “We can’t actually make jumps without a navigator anymore.”

Hugh rolled onto his back, glancing over at the lump that was his husband. “What do you mean?”

“We had to adapt the Spore Drive to integrate Straal’s tech, but that included the navigation computer. We had the computer set up as the navigator. The Glenn had the tardigrade. The system isn’t designed to jump between navigators, it’s only designed for one.” Paul rolled onto his back as well, and there was just enough light for Hugh to make out his miserable expression. “The whole system that we used to have in place has been taken apart. The Spore Drive needs an organic navigator.”

Hugh rolled the rest of the way over and pulled Paul into his arms. “Why you?” His voice was thin, he knew, but it couldn’t be helped. He felt terribly young in his total rejection of this idea, like a child who had been given news that was just too terrible to take in.

“This isn’t me giving up, dear doctor.” Paul assured him, curling into a more comfortable position with his head on Hugh’s shoulder. “It really hurt, so I’m going to find another way to make this work because Lorca won’t stop the jumps just because I’m the one going through this.”

“You’d better figure out how to make the Spore Drive work with an inorganic navigator.” He hissed, likely crushing Paul with his embrace as he tried to forget about the wounds on his partner's sides. 

“It really is amazing though.” Paul sighed, his voice staring to slur as he drifted off. “Knew it would be.”

Hugh didn’t reply, letting his husband sleep even though it took a lot longer for his own mind to settle enough for him to sleep. For the moment at least, Paul was intact and in their bed.

\------

SARU-VISION

Commander Saru stared out the large window in the Observation Lounge. Today, for the first time in his life, he could truly comprehend the meaning of the human phrase ‘with a heavy heart’. 

The guilt that was pulsing through his veins felt like an impossible weight, the words he had ignored earlier in the day echoing in his mind as clearly as when they had actually been spoken… or perhaps even more clearly. There was another human phrase about the madness that power brought and though he couldn’t quite recall it, he had an awareness of it. 

He’d not heard so many people today, but those he had most wronged were Burnham, Culber and Stamets. He’d already spoken to Burnham, and her words had given him some strength. He realised that she had done well in learning from Captain Georgiou and he had heard their late captain in her voice when she had comforted him.

Culber and Stamets he hadn’t seen. He wanted to go and ask for their forgiveness, but he suspected neither man would want to speak with him. Doctor Culber had always seemed like a mild man and the Kelpian had never been able to understand why Captain Lorca always complained about him before. However, he could now see that he’d never tried to force Culber to do something against his moral compass before.

He ordered the men to perform an act that would have killed a sentient being. He resisted the urge to stamp his hoof with the tension that shot through him. Telling himself that the power had gotten to him was no comfort at all; telling himself that it all worked out for the best and he’d know better for next time was no peaceful notion either.

Because Lieutenant Stamets had had to perform eugenics on himself to pander to Saru’s commands. 

Sickbay had informed him that Stamets had been sent to his own cabin for rest, and that there seemed to be no negative side-effects from what he had done, other than the four puncture wounds in his sides. Even so, Saru hadn’t been to see him. The guilt caused his muscles to seize up as soon as he thought about going to apologise; he hadn’t even been able to make himself go to sickbay to speak with the captain, instead speaking over the com and then heading to Lorca’s quarters when he’d been released.

Saru looked down at the case in his hands.

He wasn’t ready to be a captain… and after today, he wasn’t entirely sure he was fit to be a first officer.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to gaze out into the vastness of space as he continued to try and accept the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The articles I used for the recognising sentience.  
> http://www.animal-ethics.org/sentience-section/animal-sentience/criteria-for-recognizing-sentience/  
> https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4494284/  
> The article I used for the Hippocratic Oath  
> https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/article/hippocratic-oath-today/  
> The article I used for the Scientific Hippocratic Oath  
> http://science.sciencemag.org/content/286/5444/1475


End file.
